


Bridge to Better Days

by rauqthetommo



Series: We'll Cross That Bridge [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ben Hanscom is a Good Friend, Benverly and what have you, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Big Dick Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough is a Good Friend, Bisexual Stanley Uris, Blow Jobs, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Car Sex, Coming Out, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, Gooey Fluffy Nonsense, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I think we All want that twink obliterated, I'm not gonna tag all of them bc they're kinda spoilers?, Just read the fic ok?, Kinda, M/M, Making Out, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, Only for like a second - Freeform, Paternal Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-IT Chapter One (2017), Praise Kink, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Road Head, Some Side Pairings, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Stanley Uris Loves Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, Stanley Uris is very briefly a Bad Friend, Top Richie Tozier, also kinda - Freeform, derry fucking sucks, maternal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23135062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Following the events of Crossing Over:Richie and Eddie prepare for their new lives together while still trying to navigate their old ones. Mainly; Eddie's coming out to his mother and the Losers before he leaves for New York in three days.An excerpt from this work:“I take it you haven’t talked to your mother yet?” Richie asked.“I just don’t know how to bring it up, Rich.” Eddie sighed. “‘Hey, Mom! You know how you’re always going on and on about AIDS? Well, good news! I’m never going to catch it because, even though I’m gay, I’m marrying the one person on earth that makes your face that special shade of red!’”“Richie red,” Richie replied.“Exactly.” Eddie agreed. “Richie red.” Sonia always got red in the face, incredibly so, whenever the Losers were around, Richie in particular. Richie was pretty sure she’d rather lock Eddie up in his bedroom than let him hang out with other kids.“I love you,” Richie said. “If that helps,”“I love you too,” Eddie sighed again.“I’m here for you,”“I know you are,” Eddie chuckled softly.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: We'll Cross That Bridge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635514
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117





	Bridge to Better Days

**Author's Note:**

> To make a very long story short, I've been working on this for weeks, but I accidentally deleted it. As in; it was GONE. Like, for goodsies. No getting it back. So, that sucked out loud and after I spent a day and a half crying over weeks of work lost, I got over myself and rewrote the whole thing. And here it is. I hope you enjoy it, and please know that I suffered for my art. Please enjoy and be gentle on me.

“Mom, Dad,” Richie stood in the doorway of the living room, wringing his hands together nervously. “Can I talk to you guys about something?”

“Of course, son.” Wentworth smiled at him and lowered the volume on the television, patting the space next to him on the sofa.

After their night together last week, Richie and Eddie agreed that they needed to come out to their parents before they moved away together. It wasn’t an easy decision, as they both feared greatly for their parents’ reactions, but they agreed it was the right thing to do, so now Richie stood in the doorway of the living room, trying to work up the courage to tell his parents that, not only was he gay, but he was engaged to Eddie, and they were planning on getting married in New York that winter.

“Come sit down, son.” Wentworth once again motioned to the space on the sofa between he and his wife.

Richie nodded and quickly took his seat between his parents. “I have to— tell. You guys. Something.” He managed, not meeting either of their gazes.

“Are you feeling alright, sweetie?” Maggie asked, pressing the back of her hand to his cheek.

“I’m fine,” Richie shook his head, blinking heavily in an attempt to stop himself from crying.

“You look flush. Wentworth, doesn’t he look flush?” His mother continued feeling at his forehead and cheeks, searching for some sign of illness.

“Mom, I’m fine—“ Richie once again tried to work up the courage to speak, words sticking in his throat as his mother continued to grab at him.

“Wentworth, go get the thermometer, I want to take his temperature—“

“Maggie,” Wentworth interrupted sternly. “Go ahead, son.” He patted Richie’s knee lightly.

Richie took a deep breath in through his nose and held it in his lungs, mimicking the calming breaths Stanley had taken when he’d come out to Richie in the clubhouse last week. “I’m—uhm. I’m, uh—I.” He frowned. “Fuck,” _Just fucking spit it out,_ He scolded himself in his head. _It’s not going to get any easier._

“It’s alright, son.” His father, placed his hand on his shoulder. “Take your time.”

“Mom, Dad. I’m. G—“ He stuttered on the last word, his brain’s last ditch attempt to pussy out. He took another deep breath before starting again. “I’m gay,” He finished quietly. “I’m gay.”

He didn’t look up as the seconds stretched on, too scared to look at his parents and see the look of disappointment that surely adorned both of their faces. His eyes prickled again, growing more and more scared the longer the silence lasted. He wasn’t sure how he expected his parents to react, as he was sure that this wasn’t easy news for them to hear, he just hoped to god that neither of them hit him.

“Son, look at me.” Wentworth said softly.

Richie met his father’s gaze, unable stop the tears that flowed over, rolling down his flushed cheeks and collecting on the bottom of his glasses lenses. The corners of his father’s mouth were turned down slightly. However, it was not in disappointment, but rather, in sadness and understanding, as if he knew what his son was going through and wanted him to know that everything was going to be alright. “It’s ok, Richard.”

“You’re not upset?” Richie managed to ask.

“Why would we be upset?” Wentworth shook his head. “You can’t help who you are, son.”

Richie nodded slowly. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob, so he buried his face in his hands and cried. “Oh, honey.” Maggie said softly.

“I’m sorry, I just—“ Richie could barely talk, he was so worked up. He hadn’t expected such love and compassion from his parents. They were both pretty old fashioned, and the best case scenario he’d had in his head had been them accepting him begrudgingly, unable to fully hide their disappointment.

Wentworth twisted his upper body on the couch and opened up his arms. “Come here, son.” He said quietly.

Richie slid into his father’s arms and rested his head on his shoulder. “We love you exactly the way you were made, sweetheart.” Maggie whispered as she placed her hand on his back, directly between his shoulder blades, and rubbed in a slow circle. “You’re our only son. We’d love you even if you want to prison for killing someone.” She wrapped her arms around him from the other side, enveloping him between them in a Tozier sandwich.

“Although, we wouldn’t come visit you on holidays.” Wentworth said, and Richie couldn’t help but laugh. He knew he got his sense of humor from his father, though Wentworth almost never displayed his funnier side in front of his son.

“Thank you,” Richie whispered, sniffling softly against his father’s sweater.

“We love you, son.” Wentworth assured him, and his mother hummed her agreement.

“I’m with Eddie,” Richie mumbled after a beat of silence, figuring it was best to just lay everything out in the open.

Both of his parents chuckled, jostling him between their bodies. “We figured as much.” Maggie patted his back once more before pulling away. “You two aren’t as sneaky as you think you are.”

“Or as quiet as you think you are.” Wentworth grumbled.

“Oh, Jesus.” Richie groaned, hiding his flushing face in his father’s shoulder as his parents laughed.

***

Richie’s conversation with his parents went so well that he decided to call Eddie immediately after he’d finished talking with them, so he retreated up to his bedroom and locked his door before dialing Eddie’s number from the landline on his bedside table.

“Kaspbrak residence,” Sonia’s voice came through the speaker as she answered the phone.

Richie briefly considered hanging up and calling again in the hopes that Eddie would pick up this time, but he ultimately decided against it. “Hi, Mrs. Kaspbrak,” He said instead. “It’s Richie Tozier.”

“Hello, Richard.” She said coldly. She’d never liked Richie, although he wasn’t sure why.

“Is Eddie there?”

“You want to talk to Eddie?” She asked. She sounded snippy, and Richie wondered if he’d interrupted something. She’d probably been sorting out her pills for the week.

“Yes, please.” Richie thought about wrapping the phone cord around his neck and choking himself to death with it so he wouldn’t have to keep talking to her, but he really didn’t want to widow Eddie, so he refrained.

“Well, I’m afraid he’s busy right now, I’m sorry.” Even though she didn’t sound very sorry. “You can always try and call back la—“

“Mommy?” Eddie’s voice came through the speaker sounding far away, like he’d just walked into the room. “Who’s on the phone?”

“No one, dear.” Sonia said.

Richie scowled at that. What a bitch.

“You said my name,” Eddie pointed out. “You said I was busy, but I’m not. I can take the call.”

“Are you sure, Eddie-Bear?” She asked.

 _Just give him the damn phone,_ Richie thought, heart fluttering as he pictured Eddie’s sweet face.

“You could always just—“ Sonia pushed.

“Yes, I can take it.” Eddie interrupted. “I’ll take the call in my room.”

“He’ll be right on,” Sonia said into the phone.

“Great, thanks.” Richie drummed his fingers on his thigh while he waited, listening to Sonia breathe heavily into the speaker.

“Ok, Mommy, I’ve got it.” Eddie picked up after a few seconds. “Hang up.”

“Are you sure, Eddie-Bear?” Sonia asked. “I could—“

“Yes, Mommy, hang up.”

Sonia waited for a beat longer before slamming her phone down, the sound of the receiver hitting the dock ringing out loudly over the phone line.

“Richie?” Eddie asked.

“How could you tell?” Richie smiled, sitting back against his pillows.

“I thought my mom’s nose was about to start bleeding, and no one riles her up quite like you do.”

“Like mother like son,” Richie laughed.

“You’re an asshole,” Eddie said simply. “But I love you.”

“I love you too,” Richie smiled.

“How’d it go with your parents? Did you talk to them yet?”

“Yeah I did,” Richie nodded as if Eddie could see him, his parents words echoing in his head. _We love you exactly the way you were made._ “They were actually really chill about it.”

“That’s amazing, sweetheart! I’m so happy for you.” Eddie sounded like he was smiling.

“I know, right? I’m two for two over here,”

“I wish I could have been there when you came out to the Losers.” Eddie sighed wistfully.

“I would have waited if you’d asked,”

“No, I’m glad you came out on your own terms.” Eddie said quickly. “I’m just nervous about all of this. I know you already told Stan and Bev about us, but still.”

“I take it you haven’t talked to your mother yet?” Richie asked.

“I just don’t know how to bring it up, Rich.” Eddie sighed. “‘Hey, Mom! You know how you’re always going on and on about AIDS? Well, good news! I’m never going to catch it because, even though I’m gay, I’m marrying the one person on earth that makes your face that special shade of red!’”

“Richie red,” Richie replied.

“Exactly.” Eddie agreed. “Richie red.” Sonia always got red in the face, incredibly so, whenever the Losers were around, Richie in particular. Richie was pretty sure she’d rather lock Eddie up in his bedroom than let him hang out with other kids.

“I love you,” Richie said. “If that helps,”

“I love you too,” Eddie sighed again.

“I’m here for you,”

“I know you are,” Eddie chuckled softly. “I’ve gotta go, Richie, I’m sorry. I still have a lot of packing to do.”

“Make sure you sort your undies by color, babe, you wouldn’t want to get them mixed up.”

“Ha ha,” Eddie laughed dryly. “I’ll talk to you later, Richie.”

“Alright, bye, Eds.”

“Bye,”

***

After hanging up with Eddie, Richie decided he should probably try and continue his packing as well. The only issue was, his move was still a week out and he was running out of fodder to pack. He’d loaded up most of his shit already, haphazardly throwing his belongings into the boxes his father had purchased for him down at Keene’s, doing so without any real semblance of organization. But with Eddie leaving in a few days, he figured he’d be pretty bored without him around, and who knows? Maybe he’d want to pick up a book he hadn’t touched in 5 years. What else are you supposed to do when your fiancé moves away?

Richie gave up on packing pretty quickly and opted instead to call Stanley from the landline in his bedroom.

“Stanley Uris speaking,” Stan answered the phone sounding bored.

“Hey, Stan the Man.” Richie said.

“Richie!” Stan perked up immediately. “What’s up?”

“I’m bored and I figured my favorite Bird Brain probably was too. You want to meet at the clubhouse?”

“Absolutely not.” Stanley said. “It rained this morning, and I’m not trying to climb down into the clubhouse if it’s full of mud.”

“Fair,”

“But, my parents aren’t home, you could just come over here and we can smoke or play Nintendo or something, if you wanted.”

“It’s a date, Stanley.”

***

True to Stan’s word, neither of his parents’ cars where in the driveway when Richie arrived, so he simply ditched his bike on the front lawn and jogged up the stairs, ringing the doorbell repeatedly until Stanley answered. “I heard you, Richie, Jesus.” Stanley scowled, stepping aside to let Richie into his foyer.

“I just wanted to be sure,” Richie watched as Stan closed and locked the front door.

“You’re annoying.” Stan told him. “Come on, I've got some joints upstairs.”

Richie followed Stanley up to his room, tossing his backpack on the floor at the foot of the bed as Stanley propped his window open with a bird watching book.

“How’s packing going?” Richie asked, watching Stan settle onto his window bench, grabbing his little eyeglass case off of the bookshelf and popping it open to reveal a handful of tightly rolled joints and a lighter.

“As well as can be expected,” Stanley shrugged, lighting a spliff and blowing a plume of smoke out into the warm summer air. “We aren’t moving until the end of the month, though.”

“I know,” Richie replied, plopping down next to Stan and knocking their knees together. “But you’re you and so I figured you’d be packing already.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Stan said flatly, eyes focusing on something out in his yard, thick smoke pouring from his parted lips.

They were quiet for a moment before Richie spoke again. “I came out to my parents.”

“Really?” Stan raised his eyebrows. “How’d that go?”

“Really well, actually. They were super chill about it.”

“That’s great, Rich.” Stanley didn’t look over at him as he passed the joint to Richie, brown eyes still staring into the woods that bordered his house. “Congratulations.”

“What about you?” Richie tapped Stan’s thigh with his foot.

“What about me?” Stanley shook his head, frowning.

“Are you gonna tell Don and Andrea?” Richie cocked his head as Stanley looked over at him, eyebrows pulled together. “About—“

“I know what about.” Stan snapped, stubbing out the spliff against the windowsill and tossing it out into the yard. “No, I won’t be telling them.”

“Why not?” Richie frowned.

Stanley sighed heavily and sat back on the bench, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because it doesn’t matter.”

“What? Of course it matters,” Richie laid his hand on Stan’s knee, pulling back when he jerked away suddenly. “Stanley—“

“Richie, I have to tell you something.” Stan said quickly.

“Ok,” Richie nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Stan took a deep breath, blinking a few times and swallowing hard. “I’m—“ He stuttered, shaking his head.

“It’s ok, Stanley, you can tell me.” Richie smiled at him, trying to reassure him. “You can tell me anything. You’re my best friend, Stan the Man.”

Stanley brought his hands up to cover his face, breathing shakily. “I’m in love with you, Richie.” He said softly, shoulders shaking as he started to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Stan.” Richie loved Stan, how could he not? He’d known Stan his whole life, as long as he’d known Big Bill and Eddie, and he loved Stanley, of course he did. But he wasn’t _in_ love with Stanley, no. He loved Stan as he loved Bill or Beverly. As his friend. As his best friend. Even when they’d all been fighting, he’d still gone to Stanley’s bar mitzvah, because Stanley had gone to his and he couldn’t imagine not being there for him.

“I’m so sorry,” Stan said again, choking out another sob.

“Hey, Stan, don’t—“ Richie slid across the bench and pulled Stan into a hug. “Please don’t cry, Stanley. I’m not upset. If anything, _I’m_ sorry.”

Stanley looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “Why?”

“For being so goddamn irresistible.”

Stanley snorted quietly, shoving Richie’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Richie agreed.

“But I love you anyway.” Stan said miserably, lower lip wobbling. “I love you and your stupid face.”

“I love you too,” Richie tucked a loose curl behind Stan’s ear.

“No,” Stan shook his head. “You don’t. You love Eddie.”

“I love both of you. All of you. Ben, Bill, Mike. I have enough love to go around.”

“You forgot about Beverly.”

“I figured Ben and Bill love Bev enough for all of us.”

Stanley laughed, holding Richie tightly. “I’m sorry, Richie.” He said again.

“Don’t—“

“Let me finish.” Stan said firmly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know what I expected. When I told you.” Stan paused. “When I came out to you, I mean. I was planning on telling you then, in the clubhouse, but then you told me about you and Eddie, and you were just so happy and in love and I—“ Stanley shook his head, pulling out of Richie’s hold and sitting back on the bench. “I saw how happy you were, with Eddie, and I wanted it to be _me_ that made you happy.” He smiled sadly. “But I can’t. Not like that, anyway.” Stan swallowed hard. “I’ll be ok, Rich.” He sniffed softly. “I will.”

Richie nodded and Stan leaned forward to press a kiss to Richie’s cheek. It was so soft and so tender, and Richie started to cry. He felt like his heart was breaking in his chest, and his wished in that moment that he could split in two. That he could break into two Richie’s, one for Eddie and one for Stan, and love his best friends equally as they loved him. But he couldn’t. So instead, he pulled Stanley into a hug and cried on his shoulder, sobbing heavily while their hearts beat in time with one another’s in their chests.

***

Richie stayed at Stanley’s for a while, talking and laughing and smoking joint after joint together as they usually did, tangled up together on the window bench or the floor or the bed. Richie didn’t feel the need to change the way he acted with Stan in light of his confession. He was always affectionate with his friends, Bill, Ben, even Stanley. Especially Stanley. They used to take baths together when they were kids. They’d come in from playing together, covered in dirt and sweat, and Mrs. Uris would plop them down in the tub and clean them off together.

When Stanley’s parents got home, they invited Richie to stay for dinner and he accepted, calling his mother from the landline in Stan’s room to let her know where he was and what his plan was. He also decided to call Eddie, just to check up on him.

The call rang through, so while Stanley was writing down some fucking bird he’d seen in his yard in a bird book, Richie left a short message on Eddie’s machine. “Hey, Eds.” He began. “I was just calling to check in and see how you’re doing. I’m having dinner over at Stanley’s—“

“Hi, Eddie.” Stan cut in.

“Stanley says hi. But anyway, I’m having dinner over here so I won’t be home for a while. I’ll call you later tonight, though. Alright. Love you. Bye.”

***

“Thank you for having me over,” Richie said as he sat down at the dinner table.

“Of course, Richie.” Mrs. Uris smiled at him. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

Richie smiled over at Don and Andrea, Stanley’s parents. Stan looked like both of them, but mostly like his mother. They had the same eyes and the same smile, the same kind heart, and even the same laugh. They also had the same hair, dark blonde and curly, though Andrea wore hers very long. The more Richie thought about it, the more he realized that Stanley and his father didn’t have much in common physically, but rather in their actions. They both loved bird watching, and often went out together, and the older Stanley got the more he leaned towards his Judaism. His father was the rabbi at their local synagogue after all, and Stan spent every Friday in the temple with his father, reading from the Torah together.

Mrs. Uris set a plate of salmon and green beans in front of Richie, along with a glass of water. Richie’s own mother usually served milk with their meals, but Richie knew that Stanley’s parents kept kosher, and Richie wasn’t even sure about all of the kosher rules himself, but he knew there was something to do with milk, so he assumed that’s why they didn’t serve it.

“How are you doing, Richie?” Mr. Uris asked, unfolding his napkin and setting it on his lap.

“I’m well, sir.” Richie cleared his throat before speaking. “Thank you.”

“Stanley tells us you’re moving to New York.” Mrs. Uris said.

“Yes, I am. With Beverly and Eddie.” Richie nodded.

“That’s wonderful.” Mrs. Uris smiled.

“Mazel tov.” Mr. Uris raised his glass.

“Thank you, yeah.” Richie laughed lightly. “I’m really excited about it.”

“Will you be going to school down there?” Mr. Uris scooped some salmon into his mouth.

“No, sir.” Richie shook his head. “Not right now, anyway. I’m uh. Not really sure what I want to do.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out, dear.” Mrs. Uris leaned across the table and patted the back of his hand. “Don didn’t know what he wanted to do when he started school, either.”

“That’s right.” Mrs. Uris nodded. “Took me a little while. Luckily, Stanley knows what he’s going for, isn’t that right, son?”

Stan nodded but he didn’t answer verbally, pushing his food around on his plate. He was really fucking high, Richie could tell, and he was probably having a hard time focusing on what his parents were saying.

“Are you excited for your move?” Richie asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“We’ve been in Derry a long time.” Don answered. “I think it’ll be good for us, all of us, to get out. See the world.” He patted his wife’s hand. “Isn’t that right, Andrea?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded. “I’ve got some pictures of our new house, Richie, I’ll have to show them to you. There’s plenty of yard space for you boys to play in, if you ever come down to visit, and a guest bedroom I could set up for you. You’ll have to take a trip down and see it some time.”

“Absolutely.” Richie agreed.

“Richie can just sleep in my bed.” Stan said quietly. “That’s what we’ve always done, Mom.”

Andrea frowned. “I just wanted to give him the option, Stanley.”

Stan rubbed his eyes with his hands. “My head hurts,”

“Are you feeling alright, dear?” Stanley’s mother frowned, taking his chin in her hand and tipping his head up.

“I think I’m gonna go lie down.” Stan said softly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, Rich.” He stood up, carrying his plate to the sink and setting it on the counter.

“It’s fine,” Richie watched him walk away, suddenly anxious to be left all alone with Stan’s parents.

“I hope you boys didn’t roughhouse today,” Andrea commented. “I’d hate to think he got you sick at all.”

“They’re men now, Andrea, they don’t roughhouse anymore.” Don said, finishing off his meal.

Richie offered them a small smile, spearing the last of his green beans as Andrea began to clear the rest of the plates from the table.

***

Richie decided to check on Stanley before he left, wanting to make sure he was feeling alright, so he helped Andrea wash and dry the dishes before climbing the stairs and knocking softly on Stan’s door. “Come in,” Stanley’s muffled voice came through.

“Hey, Stan the Man.” Richie slipped in and closed the door behind himself. “You ok?”

Stan was lying on his bed on his stomach, face pushed into his pillow, jeans haphazardly kicked off but still dressed in his polo shirt, boxers and socks. He had turned off his overhead light and bedside lamp and had cracked the window again, allowing a warm breeze to flutter through his bedroom. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He mumbled. “I just smoked too much, I think.” He turned his head to face Richie, squinting one of his eyes open. “How are you fine? We smoked so much weed.”

“Mm,” Richie sat on the edge of the bed and swept his hand through Stanley’s hair. “I guess I’m just better than you.”

Stan snorted softly, closing his eyes and leaning into Richie’s touch. “I’m sorry,” He said.

“For smoking too much?”

“No, I—“ Stan shook his head, burying his face in his pillows again. “I’m sorry that I love you, Richie.”

Richie leaned far over Stan, wrapping him up in a hug, cheek resting between his shoulder blades. Stanley sniffled into his pillow, shoulders shaking as he started to cry again. Richie hushed him gently, turning his face to press a kiss to the back of Stan’s neck.

Stan choked on another sob, breath stuttering. “I love you so much, Richie.”

“I know.” Richie started crying too, as he lay there holding Stan. “I’m sorry, Stanley, that I can’t love you the way you love me. I wish that I could, Stan, I do more than anything.” Richie sighed through his nose, his glasses fogging up as he continued to cry.

Stan rolled over in Richie’s arms, pulling him into a proper hug, sobbing quietly with his face buried in Richie’s hair. Stanley was hard but Richie didn’t mention it, figuring he probably couldn’t help it and that he would only embarrass him by bringing it up. “Will you stay for awhile?” Stanley asked.

“Of course,” Richie nodded, tucking his head under Stan’s chin. “I don’t think I could leave even if I wanted to, Stan. You really don’t seem like you’re going to let go.”

Stan huffed out a wet laugh, squeezing Richie softly. “Not anytime soon, anyway.” He whispered.

***

Richie hung out for another hour before he decided to go home. He hugged Stanley goodbye tightly, allowing Stan to kiss him on the cheek before he left his bedroom, shutting the door softly as he went. He said goodbye to Stan’s parents as well, thanking them for dinner and promising to return and see them again before he left for New York. Andrea hugged him so tightly he thought that his ribs would crack, and Don gave him a firm handshake and a wink, clapping him on the shoulder as Richie stepped out onto the front porch.

Richie opted to take the long way home and swing by Eddie’s, wanting to check in on him since he hadn’t been home to take any calls he might have made.

The sun was still high in the sky, so Richie figured he was well within the limits of Sonia’s “no guests after dark” rule.

Richie leaned his bike up against the front porch railing before jogging up the stairs and ringing the doorbell.

Sonia answered, unfortunately, and looked down at Richie with distaste as she swung the door open. “Richard,” She greeted him coldly.

“Hi, Mrs. Kaspbrak.” He smiled politely, shifting on his feet. “Is Eddie in?”

“He can’t come out and play right now,” She scowled down at him. “He’s sick.”

“Sick?” Richie frowned. “Well, what does he—“

“I’m afraid that’s none of your business.” She interrupted. “Goodbye.”

Richie flinched back as she slammed the door shut, cutting him off completely as the locks clicked loudly into place. He watched as she shifted over and whipped the front blinds shut as well, turning off the living room light as if that would convince Richie that they weren’t home. He scoffed and gathered his bike up just in case she was watching, and pedaled down the street, ditching his bike in Ben’s side yard before walking back over to Eddie’s, walking up the street that ran parallel on the back side so he could hop the fence into Eddie’s yard.

He figured Eddie wasn’t really sick, as he almost never was when Sonia said he was, which was all the more reason for him to check on him. If she was keeping them apart he wanted to know why, as her shutting Eddie off from the world was never good.

All of the shades on the first floor of Eddie’s house were drawn, but he still crouched down as he crept through the yard, not wanting the neighbors to see him, lest they tip off Sonia to his presence.

Richie had sneaked into Eddie’s room countless times, all before they were actually dating, so he just did what he always did; hopped up onto the trash cans next to the back porch, pulled himself onto the roof of the attached garage, and shimmied across the back porch cover to tap on Eddie’s window.

Eddie was in bed when Richie reached his bedroom, curled in on himself with his back towards the window. He lifted his head when Richie knocked, and Richie’s heart dropped into his stomach. Eddie had a bruise forming on his left cheek, directly over his cheekbone, as well as a cut above his right eyebrow, and his bottom lip was split open and swollen. He’d been crying, tears tracking down his cheeks and wetting the collar of his shirt— actually, Richie’s shirt. It was his Nirvana t-shirt, the one he’d worn the night they’d confessed their love for each other on the Kissing Bridge, and Richie figured that Eddie must have grabbed it from his closet sometime in the last few days.

Eddie checked the lock on his bedroom door before opening up the window and allowing Richie inside.

“What the hell happened to you?!” Richie demanded, taking Eddie’s chin in his hand and tipping his face towards the light so he could better assess his injuries.

“My mother,” Eddie said miserably.

“She hit you?!” Richie hissed, rage boiling up inside of him.

Eddie nodded. “She slapped me and I fell.” He sniffled softly. “I hit my face off of the bannister.”

Richie pulled Eddie in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He was seriously on the verge of walking downstairs and killing Eddie’s mother. “Because you came out to her?” He managed, trying to keep his voice low so Sonia didn’t hear them.

Eddie laughed humorlessly, burrowing deeper into Richie’s chest. “I didn’t even get the chance to. She was listening to us on the phone this morning. She never hung up.” Richie clenched his jaw so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, anger bubbling up from his stomach at the thought of Sonia eavesdropping on their private conversation, holding her hand over her end of the phone so they wouldn’t hear her breathing while she listened to them talk. “I’m so sorry, Richie.” Eddie shook his head, pulling Richie’s attention back to their current discussion. “I should have taken the call downstairs, but I just wanted to talk to you alone and I—“

“Eddie,” Richie pulled back and held Eddie at arms length so he could look into his eyes. “Why the fuck are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eddie choked out another sob, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. “She said such horrible things to me, Richie. About me. About us.” He shook his head again. “I thought things were different now, you know? I thought she was better, she hasn’t hit me in so long—“

“She’s hit you _before_ _?!_ ” Richie demanded.

“Yes,” Eddie nodded, taking a shaky breath. “A few times.”

“We need to call the police.”

“No!” Eddie said quickly. “Richie, we can’t. She’s my mother.”

“She hit you, Eddie!”

“Richie, no.” Eddie said again. “I don’t want to call the cops, please.”

“Eddie, I—“ Richie stopped himself, looking into Eddie’s pleading eyes. He was scared. “Ok,” Richie relented, nodding. “Ok, we won’t call the cops.”

Eddie relaxed a little at that, exhaling heavily. He nodded again. “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” Richie shook his head, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s tear-soaked cheek. “I’m sorry your mother was so horrible to you.” He whispered into Eddie’s cheekbone.

“Tell me you love me,” Eddie said softly.

“I do. I love you more than anything in the world, Eds.”

“Tell me you’ll take me away.” Eddie looked up into Richie’s eyes.

“Of course. I’ll take you far away from Derry and we’ll never come back.”

“I want to go to Ireland.”

“Then we’ll go to Ireland.” Richie said immediately.

“And Paris.”

“France or Texas?”

Eddie laughed. “Both.”

“Absolutely.”

“And I want to go to Disneyland.”

“That’s a given, babe.” Richie reached out and brushed his fingers over Eddie’s cheek, smiling at him, his heart so full of love that it felt like it was going to burst. Richie stepped back and dropped to his knees. “Marry me?”

Eddie’s face broke out into a grin. “You already asked me that, you idiot.”

“Well, now I’m asking again.” Richie insisted, taking Eddie’s hands in his.

“And I already said yes,”

“Say it again.”

Eddie smiled, his cheeks flushing. “Yes. Yes, Richie, I’ll marry you.”

Richie quickly got to his feet, wrapping Eddie up in another hug, lifting him off the ground and peppering kisses all over his face. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Eddie kept on smiling as Richie set him back on his feet. “Come to bed with me.” He said softly, lacing their fingers together.

“Ok,” Richie nodded, allowing Eddie to lead him over to his bed.

Richie climbed on first, sitting back against the headboard, and Eddie tucked himself under Richie’s arm, snuggled into his side. Richie ran his fingers up and down Eddie’s back as they lay there, trying to settle Eddie’s racing heartbeat.

“Say more nice things.” Eddie whispered.

“Mm, like what?”

“Like, our wedding.” Eddie pulled Richie closer. “What’ll it be like?”

“Oh, it’ll be absolutely fabulous, Eds, really. We’ll have butlers and caterers, the whole nine yards.”

Eddie laughed again. “Why would we need butlers at our wedding?”

“Uhm, so they can buttle?” Richie scoffed. “Keep up, Eds.”

Eddie chuckled, kissing Richie’s ribs through his shirt. “What else?”

“We’ll have it in the grand ballroom of the Plaza. And all of the Losers will be there. And my folks. And, of course, some top tier celebrities.”

“Like who?”

“Sandra Bullock. Meryl Streep. Elton John. Princess Diana. Michael Jackson, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Eddie repeated. “Who’s gonna play?”

“Nirvana.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Nirvana rocks, Eddie.”

“What, are they gonna play ‘Come As You Are’ as I walk down the isle?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely.” Richie turned his head to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “And we’ll have all of the best chefs in the world, Eddie, my love. We’ll dine on only the finest of cuisines. Beluga cavier. Foie gras. You know. The real fancy shit.”

“What about our wedding cake?”

“Oh, I don’t know. We’ll probably just pick one up from Walmart or something.”

Eddie slapped Richie’s stomach lightly. “You’re such a shit.” He laughed.

“Yeah,” Richie agreed, squeezing Eddie’s hip softly.

“What about our honeymoon?” Eddie asked after a beat. “Where will we go?”

“Antarctica.” Richie said immediately.

Eddie pulled back to look at him, eyebrows knit. “Antarctica?” Richie nodded. “Why?”

“Because it’s the only place on earth you can go where you won’t be within ten feet of a spider, and I am not dealing with any fucking spiders on our honeymoon, Eds. I’ve got enough problems as it is.”

Eddie looked thoroughly confused about two seconds before he broke out into laughter, burying his face in Richie’s shoulder and shaking with giggles. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Richie, really.” He laughed, taking a deep breath and dissolving further into hysterical laughter. “Jesus Christ, I love you so much.”

Richie beamed at Eddie’s kind words, heart fluttering as they stared at each other. “I love you too.” Richie tapped the end of Eddie’s nose with his finger.

Eddie smiled up at him, cupping Richie’s jaw in his hand and pulling him forward so their lips met. Richie was gentle, careful not to hurt Eddie’s busted lip as they kissed, breathing evenly through his nose and swiping his tongue along Eddie’s bottom lip. “I don’t want to have sex,” Eddie whispered, threading his hands through Richie’s hair. “Not with my mom here.”

Richie shook his head. “I didn’t think you did.” He allowed Eddie to peck his lips again.

“But I don’t want you to leave yet.” Eddie dropped his hands to Richie’s shoulders and grabbed hold of his t-shirt, keeping him in place.

“I won’t,” Richie assured him, laying back against the pillows and pulling Eddie onto his chest. “I won’t.”

***

Richie knew he couldn’t spend the night there. If Sonia caught him upstairs after she’d sent him away she’d flip out, and he didn’t want to give her a reason to hit Eddie again (not that she’d had a reason in the first place, but still). So, as the sun started to go down, he climbed back out Eddie’s window and onto the back porch cover to go home. He’d given his shirt to Eddie to sleep with, because he’d asked and Richie would do anything Eddie asked of him, so he jogged back to Ben’s to collect his bike.

He couldn’t go home shirtless, so he decided to stop in and see Ben before he went home, knocking on the front door loudly and praying that Ben answered the door and not his mother.

Luckily, Ben did answer the door, frowning at Richie as he swung it open. “I thought that was your bike,” He commented, surveying Richie. “What happened to your shirt?”

“Long story.” Richie sighed. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Ben nodded and stepped aside, allowing Richie into the entryway.

***

Richie called his mother from Ben’s phone, letting her know he’d stopped by to see Ben and that he’d be home soon, before taking a seat on Ben’s bed.

“I went to go see Eddie.” Richie toyed with the hem of the shirt Ben had given him, twisting the soft cotton around his fingers.

“And he took your shirt?” Ben asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, bumping his knee into Richie’s.

“He asked for it.” Richie shrugged. “He said it would make him feel better.” He glanced up to meet Ben’s eyes, trying to tell him as much of the truth as he could without spilling the beans about Eddie’s personal life.

“Mm,” Ben seemingly accepted this answer, taking a sip from a glass of water on his nightstand before speaking again. “How’re you doing, Rich?”

“I’m fine,”

“Did you talk to your parents? About you being gay?” Ben laced his fingers together in his lap, watching Richie intently while he waited for his answer.

“Yeah, I did.” Richie laughed softly, still gripping the edge of his Derry High Wrestling Team shirt. “They were actually really cool about it.”

“That’s great, man!” Ben smiled, his hazel eyes lighting up. “Congratulations!” He opened his arms wide, pulling Richie in for a hug.

Ben gave the best hugs out of all of the Losers, in Richie’s opinion. Maybe it was because the rest of them were so damn bony, like when he hugged Bill and got an armful of ribs and shoulder blades, but Ben’s hugs were different. Warm and firm and comforting, Richie felt all of his stress melt away as Ben held him there, rubbing his gentle hands all over Richie’s back. “Jesus, man, you give the best hugs.” Richie mumbled, practically falling asleep in Ben’s arms.

Ben laughed softly. “Thanks, Rich. Lots of practice.”

Richie snuggled closer to Ben, turning his face into Ben’s shoulder and breathing deeply. Ben was wearing some kind of woodsy cologne, and Richie immediately recognized it as the cologne Eddie had been smelling the day Ben had brought all of the Losers over for the first time. It made his heart clench with love for his friends, reminding him of what they’d been through. The bond they all shared together.

“You ok, Rich?” Ben asked quietly. “You’re shaking.”

Richie sniffled softly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He whispered, pulling back and smiling at Ben. “Just thinking.”

Ben reached up and wiped a tear from Richie’s cheek, cupping his face for a second and returning his smile. “Can I ask you something, Richie?”

“Sure,” Richie nodded.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but the other day Beverly said something to me and it kinda got me thinking a little bit.” Ben paused, sweeping his hand through his hair. “Are you and Eddie together? It’s ok if you are, obviously, we’d never judge you guys, and like I said, you don’t have to answer, but it just kind of seems like maybe.” His eyes glanced down to Richie throat, at the hickey Eddie had given him the night he’d slept over at his house. It was mostly gone by now, just a faded spot of yellow on his skin, but he’d seen the Losers plenty of times between then and now, so they’d all seen it, and the matching one Eddie had been sporting right next to his Adam’s apple. “Like maybe you are.”

Richie sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted to tell Ben, of course he did, and he knew that the Losers would never have an issue with them being together, but he’d already told Beverly and Stanley about them being together without asking Eddie first, which wasn’t fair of him. He didn’t want to force Eddie out of the closet before he was ready. Look what had happened with Sonia. “I can’t tell you right now, Ben.” Richie said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Ben shook his head immediately. “Don’t be sorry, it’s ok.”

“It just isn’t my place.” Richie smiled apologetically.

“I understand.” Ben returned his smile. “Have you eaten?” He asked after a beat. “My mom was just about to order a pizza.”

“Yeah, I ate a Stan’s.”

“You’re still welcome you stay, if you want.” Ben offered. “We could smoke or something. Play Nintendo?”

Richie laughed softly, taking Ben’s hand in his and kissing the back of it. “As much as I would love to, Haystack, I’ve gotta mosey on home.” He sighed and stood up, straightening out his shirt, which was about 3 sizes too big for him. Ben had lost a lot of weight in the four years that Richie had known him, shedding pound after pound when he joined the wrestling team, and then the football team right after, but he was still bigger than Richie. Ben had been shorter than him when they’d first met, but was now about the same height, if not a little taller, and Richie figured he’d be towering over him in a few years (or months, more likely), as his rapid growth spurt showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“We’ll have to hang out again before you leave, Rich.” Ben stood up too.

“Of course, man.” Richie assured him, allowing Ben to pull him into another tight hug and smacking a loud kiss on his cheek.

***

“Richard,” Maggie shook his shoulder gently. “Richard, wake up, honey.” Richie moaned in protest and burrowed deeper into his pillows. “Richard, wake up. Eddie is here to see you.”

“Eddie’s here?” Richie pushed himself up quickly and shoved his glasses on, significantly more awake after hearing Eddie’s name.

“Yes,” Maggie nodded, pressing her hand to his cheek.

“I’m not sick, Mom.” Richie batted her hand away, running his fingers through his hair to try and straighten it out.

“You look so thin.” Maggie commented quietly. “That shirt is huge on you.”

“It’s Ben’s.”

“Are you sure?” She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

“What? Yes, I’m sure.” Richie pushed her hand away again and threw off his blankets. “Where’s Eddie?”

“In the foyer,” Maggie said.

Richie didn’t bother changing out of his sleeping clothes before going downstairs, simply throwing his bedroom door open and running down to the first floor. Eddie was standing in the middle of the foyer, twisting something in his hands. The bruise on his cheek has bloomed completely, a nasty purple mark in the shape of Sonia’s hand, but he’d put a blue band-aid over his left eyebrow and the swelling in his lip had gone down almost entirely, simply leaving a cut through the center of his bottom lip. He looked tired, but Richie figured that was probably just from tossing and turning all night. Eddie always had issues sleeping, even when they were kids. He’d roll over onto his stomach, then to his sides, before returning to his back and repeating the process all over again. He was too hot and too cold all at once, and he often got nightmares. When they were little it was about getting sick, or his dad dying, when they were in their early teens, it was about the leper or Pennywise, and more recently it had been about leaving Derry to go to school. Richie would always stay up with him at sleepovers, whispering to him on the floor of Bill’s living room, making him snicker so loudly that he was worried they’d wake the other Losers up. Eventually, they’d always lay back down to go to sleep, and the next morning Richie would wake up with Eddie asleep on his chest, or curled up around his back, face pressed between his shoulder blades.

“Hey,” Richie said softly. He wanted to kiss him, but he refrained. He knew his mother was right upstairs, if not behind them already, and that his father was most likely in the kitchen eating his breakfast, and even though they were out to his parents, Richie wasn’t sure what Eddie was comfortable with in terms of PDA.

“Hey,” Eddie smiled at him. “I brought you your shirt.” He held out the thing he’d been holding, which Richie could now see was his Nirvana t-shirt. “I washed it.”

“Thanks.” Richie let their fingertips brush as he took it back, Eddie warm skin against his causing his heart to flutter.

“Could we maybe go talk?” Eddie asked.

“Sure, yeah.” Richie nodded. “We can go up to my room—“

“Hello again, Eddie.” Maggie smiled at him as she came down the stairs.

“Hi,” Eddie smiled politely.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast, dear?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “That would be great.”

“We were gonna go talk, Mom.” Richie told her.

“That’s fine.” Maggie waved her hand dismissively. “You boys go right ahead, I won’t bother you. Just come downstairs when you’re ready and I’ll set out some plates.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Tozier.” Eddie kept on smiling as she walked back towards the kitchen, winking at them before turning away and disappearing through the doorway.

“Let’s go upstairs.” Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and led him up to his room, shutting and locking the door before turning back to him. “Are you okay?”

Eddie nodded, wringing his hands. “Yeah, I’m fine. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie smiled again, his brown eyes lighting up as they stared at each other. “Ask me again.” He said after a beat.

Richie opened his arms and pulled Eddie into a hug, tipping his chin down so they were still looking at each other. “I’ll ask you every goddamn day if it makes you feel better.” He whispered. “Marry me?”

Eddie nodded, standing up on his toes to meet Richie’s lips for a kiss. “I’ll say yes every day.” He said softly. “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Richie planted a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, dropping his chin to rest there as he held him.

“My mom apologized for hitting me.” Eddie mumbled. “But she didn’t apologize for what she said.”

“What did she say?” Richie asked quietly, rubbing his hands over Eddie’s back.

“Just fucking _awful_ things, Richie. Things you should never say to another person, let alone your son.” Eddie sighed and shook his head. “She’s trying to guilt me into staying.”

“Are you going to?”

“Fuck no.” Eddie pulled back to look at him. “If anything, this has made me realize how badly I need to get away from her. She’ll never accept this, Richie. She’ll never accept me. Us. She told me herself, in so many words.”

“I’m sorry,” Richie whispered.

“I’m so glad I have you.” Eddie mumbled, pushing his face into Richie’s chest. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Richie cupped Eddie’s face when he pulled back to look at him, smiling softly and rubbing his thumbs of the knobs of Eddie’s jaw.

“Come here,” Eddie said, pressing up to catch Richie’s lips in another kiss.

Eddie’s hands found their way into Richie’s hair, tangling up in the his dark curls and tugging lightly, pulling Richie down to his height. Richie dropped his hands to rest on Eddie’s hips, yanking him in so they were flush together, the full length of Eddie’s body pressed to his. Eddie made a quiet moaning sound into Richie’s mouth, parting his lips and swiping his tongue over Richie’s delicately, clearly holding back. “We can’t have sex with my parents here.” Richie told him reluctantly.

“I know,” Eddie groaned, dropping his forehead against Richie’s shoulder. “Fuck, I want you so bad.” He said, rolling his hips up to drag their cocks together through their pants. “I want to feel you again, Richie, you have no idea.”

“Trust me, baby-love, I have _some_ idea.” Richie sighed.

He wanted to have sex with Eddie again more than anything, he thought about it all the time. He’d even jerked off to the memory of the two of them together a few times, but they just hadn’t had the right opportunity. Neither of them wanted to have sex with their parents in the house, and it wasn’t like their cup was overflowing with other options, location-wise. The only other place they could go was the clubhouse, but the Losers came and went from there so often that it was risky enough business to make out down there, let alone actually have sex.

“Soon, baby.” Richie assured him, kissing the crown of his head again. “We’ll have all the time in the world when we get to New York.”

Eddie hummed his agreement, kissing Richie’s chest softly before pulling back. “We should probably head downstairs before your parents actually think we’re having sex up here, anyway.”

Richie snickered softly. “You’re not going to like this, but apparently we made a little more noise than we thought the other night.”

Eddie pulled back quickly, eyebrows nearly at his hairline, scowling up at Richie. “You’re a fucking liar, they weren’t even home.” He slapped Richie’s chest.

“No, not _that_ night,” Richie laughed. “The other night. When we were making out up here.”

“It was probably you!” Eddie chastised, bright pink blush creeping up his face. “I kept fucking telling you that you were moaning too loud! Who the fuck moans from kissing?!”

Richie bent over in laughter, giggles shaking his entire body as Eddie continued to snap at him. “Eds, stop, you’re gonna kill me!”

Eddie slapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, you’re such an ass! I’m never having sex with you again, I swear to god, I’m going to be celibate from this point on!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Richie laughed, straightening himself up and pulling Eddie into his side despite his protests. “You couldn’t resist all of this if you tried.”

“I hate you,” Eddie replied, shoving Richie away from him and stalking towards the door.

He paused with his hand on the handle before sighing indignantly and turning back to Richie. He stood up on his toes to catch his lips in a soft kiss, allowing Richie to cup his face in his hands and pull him closer. Richie moaned loudly just to be an asshole before he pulled away with a wide grin. “Told you,”

***

Richie’s parents were still in the kitchen when he and Eddie eventually came downstairs. Maggie was scooping some scrambled eggs on a plate while Wentworth was reading the paper in his usual seat. “Oh, have a seat boys.” Maggie smiled at them and gestured to the kitchen table. “I’ll get some plates for you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Richie took his usual place across from his father and pulled Eddie down into the seat next to him.

“How are you, Eddie?” Wentworth asked casually, not looking up from his paper.

“Very well, sir.” Eddie drummed his fingers on his lap, clearly nervous.

Richie understood why. Although Eddie had eaten dozens of meals with Richie’s parents before, this was their first time appearing to them as a couple, and it was nerve wracking for the both of them. Richie laced their fingers together under the table and offered Eddie a small smile as Maggie set their plates out in front of them before taking her seat at the head of the table.

“Did you get in a fight, Eddie, dear?” Maggie asked, frowning as her eyes flicked over Eddie’s injuries.

“No, I uh.” Eddie cleared his throat, pulling his hand out of Richie’s to set his napkin on his lap, busting out his extra manners while he had the Toziers’ attention. “I was just wrestling with Bill Denbrough. We just took things a little too far, I guess.”

“You know how boys are, Maggie.” Wentworth said, taking a bite from his toast.

“I just wasn’t sure if your kind would roughhouse is all.” She said, immediately followed by, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way—“

“Mom—” Richie started.

“Maggie—“ Wentworth said at the same time.

“No, it’s all right.” Eddie insisted.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie said again. “I really didn’t mean anything by that, boys, I’m just. Trying, sweetheart, I am.”

“Mom, it’s ok.” Richie shook his head. “Just, like. Take it down a notch.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“We’re still just Richie and Eddie.” Richie said, taking Eddie’s hand in his over the tabletop.

“I know that.” Maggie said. “I’m sorry.”

They ate in silence for a moment, no one really sure what the next best way to start another conversation was. Wentworth broke first, clearing his throat before speaking. “Eddie, Richard tells us you’re going to school down in the city.”

“Yes, sir.” Eddie agreed.

“Will you be living with Beverly and Richard?” Wentworth took a sip from his coffee.

“No, I’ll be living on campus. In a dorm.”

“What are you going to school for?” Maggie asked.

“Business,”

“Good man,” Wentworth smiled. “I hope you have a good time at school, Eddie. Maybe you could rub off on our son, there, convince him to enroll, hm?”

“Dad—“ Richie started.

“College isn’t for everyone,” Eddie interjected. “Richie just isn’t sure what he wants to do right now. And that’s ok.” He smiled softly at Richie, taking his hand again.

“You’re absolutely right.” Maggie agreed.

“When do you move down, Eddie?” Richie’s father asked.

“Two days.” Eddie exhaled heavily, sipping from his water as he finished off his food. “I move in on Thursday, then we have a weekend orientation, and my first class is Monday morning.” Richie squeezed Eddie’s hand softly, running his thumb over his knuckles.

“Well, we hope everything goes well for you.” Maggie said, standing from her seat to begin clearing the plates from the table.

“We want what’s best for you boys,” Wentworth agreed. “We want you to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Eddie smiled at them.

“We’re getting married.” Richie blurted. He hadn’t meant to just yell it out like that, but sometimes his mouth ran faster than he could catch it. Eddie made a strangled sort of noise and squeezed Richie’s hand tightly overtop of the table. Maggie halted her movements at the sink, where she was scrubbing a plate, and Wentworth froze with his coffee mug raised halfway to his mouth. They both just stared at them, the room so quiet that they could have heard a fucking pin drop. “In the winter.” He added softly.

There was another beat of silence before Maggie spoke. “We were 18 when we got married,” She said quietly.

“Yes,” Wentworth agreed. “Yes, we were.” He set his mug down and scratched his mustache thoughtfully, looking over both Richie and Eddie, directly across from him at the table. “Is this what you want, boys?”

Eddie nodded quickly.

“Yes,” Richie answered, swallowing hard.

“Well, then.” Wentworth sighed. “You have our blessing.” He raised his mug to them and smiled. “Mazel tov, boys. Congratulations.”

***

After their impromptu engagement announcement, Richie and Eddie retreated back upstairs to Richie’s room to celebrate the only way they knew how; by making out.

Although they’d both stressed that they didn’t want to have sex if their parents were in the house, they were getting pretty fucking close over there.

Richie was lying flat on his back on the bed with Eddie on top of him, cupping his ass through his pants, tongue sliding over Eddie’s in his mouth. They were both already way past half-hard, Richie tenting almost comically in his sleeping boxers as Eddie slipped his hands up under his t-shirt. “This is fucking huge on you.” Eddie mumbled, licking the line of Richie’s jaw.

“It’s Ben’s.” Richie whispered, pushing the hem of Eddie’s shirt up so he could rub his hands over his smooth skin.

“Mm,” Eddie hummed, clearly not interested in the slightest of the history of Richie’s wardrobe.

Eddie continued to suck marks onto Richie’s throat, reaching up with one hand to pluck his glasses off of his face and set them on the nightstand, while snaking the other hand between them to begin palming Richie’s hard-on through his boxers. “Fuck, Eddie.” Richie breathed out.

“Shh,” Eddie chastised. “Went and Maggie might hear.”

“I thought you didn’t want to have sex with them here?” Richie replied, not that he was complaining, he just wanted to make sure that he and Eddie were on the same page as far as this interaction was going.

“I changed my mind,” Eddie said simply, pushing the waistband of Richie’s boxers aside so he could take his cock in his hand and start pumping.

And, ok, yeah, Richie could work with that, definitely. “Fuck, Eds.” Richie groaned, head dropping back against his pillow.

Eddie whined in protest when the phone rang and Richie reached over the answer it. “Tozier residence,” He answered shakily.

“Hey, Rich!” It was Beverly.

“Hey, Bevvie.” Richie gripped Eddie’s shoulder tightly, barely stifling a whine in his throat as Eddie continued to jerk him off.

“Hey, listen, everyone is over here at Bill’s, you and Eddie should come over.”

“When?”

“Right now, dummy.”

“Hang on,” Richie laid the phone on his shoulder and tipped his head down to speak to Eddie. “Bev wants us to come over to Bill’s. All of the Losers are there.”

Eddie frowned up at him, stilling his movements. “When?”

“Right now,”

Eddie sighed, pursing his lips. “We probably should, right?”

Richie nodded reluctantly. “Yeah,”

“Fine,” Eddie sighed again, sitting up and wiping his hands against his thighs. “Tell her we’ll be right over.”

“We’ll be right over, Bev.” Richie said into the phone.

“Cool!” Bev said. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” Richie set the phone back on the dock and pushed himself up onto his elbows, tucking his dick back into his boxers. “We’ll have to revisit this.” He brushed his fingers over Eddie’s cheek and smiled at him apologetically.

Eddie nodded, eyes sweeping over Richie’s erection, barely concealed by his pajamas. “Go ahead and get dressed,” He said sadly. “You’ll have to fuck me into another dimension some other time.”

Richie grinned at him. “My dick is at your service, babe.” He laughed when Eddie rolled his eyes.

“My hero,”

***

The walk to Bill’s house was short, the sun beating down on them from its high point in the sky, as it was just past noon. They didn’t hold hands, fearing for their safety if they were seen out together on the street, but Richie did bump his pinky into Eddie’s repeatedly as they walked along, smiling over at him every chance he got. Eddie always smiled back, and fuck, he was so in love.

Bill’s mother, Sharon, answered the door, smiling at them. “Hello, boys.” She greeted. “Come on in, everyone is in the basement. You can head right down.”

“Thanks,” Eddie replied, allowing Richie to pull him through the entryway and towards the basement door.

Bill’s parents had finished their basement when Bill was 15, the summer after Georgie died. They’d had it carpeted and put panelings on the walls, and had even moved their old living room set down there once they bought new furniture for upstairs. It was where the Losers always hung out when it was too cold or too wet to go to the clubhouse.

The light above the stairs was off when Richie opened the door, so he flipped the switch and headed down, Eddie in tow.

The basement was quiet until they made it halfway down, at which point all of the Losers yelled, “Surprise!” startling a yelp from Eddie as he jumped back. Richie tripped over himself in his surprise, falling face first onto the basement floor, sprawled out like a starfish on the carpeting.

“Jesus, Rich.” Mike laughed. “Walk much?”

“Fuck off,” Richie pushed himself into a sitting position, hand resting over his heart. “You guys scared the shit out of us.”

“Are you ok, honey?” Eddie asked, dropping to his knees beside him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Richie waved off his concern, catching Bill whisper “Honey?” to Ben.

“Oh, wow, guys.” Eddie said softly.

Richie followed his gaze, and realized that Bill’s basement was decorated to the fucking nines, with purple and white streamers and balloons, and a little hand-painted banner that read; _‘_ _Good Luck in New York, Eddie!’_

Bill had already set up and turned on his Nintendo, and the Super Mario loading screen was looping over and over again, with a small stack of VHS tapes piled up next to the television. Ben had brought over his boombox and a selection of his mix tapes, and now _Two Princes_ by The Spin Doctors was playing softly through the basement.

Bill’s old, fat beagle, Mr. Hampton, was sniffing around the snacks and drinks laid out on the coffee table, try desperately to stretch his tongue long enough to sneak a cheese puff from the bowl.

“You guys planned this whole party?” Richie asked, taking in the decor of Bill’s basement.

“Yes, sir.” Ben smiled.

“And you didn’t even tell me.” Richie crossed his arms over his chest.

“No, Richie.” Stan said flatly. “Because you can’t keep a secret.”

“Excuse you!” Richie pushed himself to his feet. “How so very dare you, Stanley. I am _great_ at keeping secrets. I never told anyone about that time you pissed your pants in my mom’s car during Passover.”

Stan flushed a dark red while their friends laughed, and if looks could kill, Richie would have been dead a long time ago.

***

“You guys really didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie said softly, leaned back in the armchair of the basement.

“Of course we did.” Mike said immediately from his place on the couch, wedged between Bill and Stanley.

“We wanted to give you a proper send-off, Eds.” Beverly replied, packing a bowl while she sat on the floor, long legs crossed in front of her.

“But you’re coming with me.” Eddie pointed out, leaning into Richie where he was perched on the arm of Eddie’s chair.

Bev shrugged and patted her pocket for a lighter. “You’re still the first to leave.”

“I really appreciate all of this.” Eddie watched as Bev took a long drag from the bowl before handing to Ben, sitting directly to her left. “It means a lot to me that you guys would send me off like this.”

“You’d do the s-same for us,” Bill leaned over to take the bowl from Ben.

“Are you excited to go to school, Eddie?” Mike asked, watching Bill intently as he lit up the bowl and inhaled deeply.

“Yeah, I am.” Eddie nodded and smiled. “It’ll be good to get away from Derry.”

“What happened to you face, Eds?” Bev asked, coughing once into the room.

The other Losers hummed, clearly also curious. “Oh,” Eddie frowned, and Richie watched as he touched over the band-aid on his eyebrow. “I, uh.” He pursed his lips, eyes locked on Mike’s hands as he took a hit from the bowl and passed it to Stan. “I fell.” He said softly.

“You fell?” Mike repeated, blowing a cloud of smoke out into the room.

“Into what?” Stanley furrowed his brow and handed the bowl to Richie.

“Into your mother,” Richie interrupted. He could tell Eddie was anxious, not wanting to talk about his mother hitting him but also clearly not able to think up a convincing lie. “Big Billy, won’t your parents bug about us smoking in here?”

“Uh,” Bill frowned, eyes flashing between Richie and Eddie for a second before apparently deciding to drop it. “N-no. They never come down here anyway. And I turned on the fan.” He gestured to the little desk fan he’d perched on the end of the coffee table.

“Good thinkin’ Abe Lincoln,” Richie replied, passing the bowl to Eddie.

The Losers laughed. “What the fuck does that mean?” Mike snickered.

Richie smiled and shrugged, watching Eddie lean forward and pass the bowl back to Beverly on the floor. “It just came to me.” Richie shrugged. He was already starting to feel floaty and happy from the weed.

Bev laughed again, throwing her head back while Ben watched her with the biggest fucking heart eyes Richie had ever seen. “You’re hilarious, Richie.” She giggled. “I can’t wait till I have you all to myself in New York.” She shoved Ben’s shoulder while he puffed from the bowl. “The rest of you nerds will have to suffer with whatever passes for comedy in the Hanlon household.”

“Fuck you, I’m funny.” Mike scowled.

Bill patted his thigh, laughing. “Easy does it, Mikey. Don’t get all wuh-worked up over nothing.” Bill left his hand on Mike’s thigh while Ben passed the bowl to him, Richie noticed.

“You’re all just jealous because I’m going to Florida.” Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “I swear, as soon as my cousin comes to help my grandpa at the farm, I’m outta here and I’m never coming back.”

“Amen,” Bill sighed, handing the bowl to Mike. “I can’t wait to get out of here.” His eyes flashed over the group. “You guys are l-lucky you’re leaving.”

“Stan’s luckiest of all.” Ben sighed wistfully, resting his cheek on his knees. “You’ll never have to see snow in Georgia.”

“It snows down there,” Stan said quietly, eyes turning red from the pot.

“Yeah, but nothing like Maine snow.” Eddie agreed with Ben.

“No,” Stan relented, letting his fingers brush Richie’s when he passed the bowl over. “Just some slush.”

“Are you planning on going to school in the city, Rich?” Ben asked, dragging his flat palm against the fibers of the carpet.

“I’m not sure,” Richie sighed and turned his head away from the group to blow his smoke out into the room. “I think I’m gonna just try and find a job, at least for now.”

“What kind of job?” Bev asked. She was untying and retying the draw string on her little floral shorts, and Richie wondered if she even realized she was doing it.

“Male prostitute.” He said immediately, smiling when all of his friends laughed. “I think I’d be good at it!” He defended.

“Jesus, beep beep, honey.” Eddie groaned, taking another hit.

“Honey,” Bill said again, blinking slowly. Richie could already tell he was really fucking high, and they’d barely just begun.

“Can’t hold your smoke, Billy Boy?” Richie teased.

“F-f-f-fuck you, Trashmouth.” He grumbled, coughing. His cheeks were flushed bright pink, something that only happened when he was high.

“We should play Mario.” Ben suggested, taking the bowl from Beverly and holding it in his hand, but not taking another hit.

“We just got started,” Richie protested. He wasn’t high enough yet to want to stop.

“It’s been almost two hours, Rich.” Stan said.

Richie frowned and checked his watch. 1:56. Shit. How had they spent almost two hours just talking? “Well, fuck me.” Richie laughed. That’s what he loved about his friends. Time really fucking flew when they were all together.

“Who wants to play with me?” Ben scooted towards the Nintendo and grabbed a controller.

“Who says you get to go first?” Bev scowled.

“It was my idea.” Ben defended. “You can play with me, Bev.”

“No way,” Beverly shook her head. “Stan’s my partner.”

“Hey,” Richie protested. “Stan’s _my_ partner.”

“What the fuck?” Eddie slapped Richie’s knee. “What about me?”

“Why don’t you be Bill’s partner?” Richie offered.

“I’m Mike’s partner,” Bill threw his arm around Mike’s shoulder and grinned at him.

“There’s seven of us,” Ben pointed out. “We won’t all be able to partner up without someone being left out.”

“I count eight.” Richie pushed his glasses back up, grinning when everyone stared at him. “Bill, Mike, Bev, Ben, Stanley, Eds, Me. . .” He paused.

“And?” Beverly raised her eyebrows.

“Duh,” Richie rolled his eyes. “Eddie’s mom.”

A barrage of “boo!” and “you suck!” and one very annoyed “you aren’t funny,” came from his friends, sending Richie reeling with laughter, doubled over as Bill and Mike pelted him with popcorn from the bowl on the table.

***

Stan ended up partnering up with Ben to play Nintendo, as Bill’s mom came down and told Bev that she had a phone call from her father and she went to go take it upstairs, so Richie stole Stan’s spot on the couch and pulled Eddie onto his lap. Eddie squirmed against him, never able to sit still, and Richie wanted to kiss him so badly. He was so cute when he was high, his hair messed up because he couldn’t stop fucking with it, his chest expanding slowly as he took deep, calming breaths, his nimble fingers toying with the leg holes on his shorts because he liked the way they felt. Richie briefly wondered what it would be like to fuck Eddie while they were high, slow and syrupy and lovey and soft. He had to stop that train of thought before it got away from him for fear of popping a boner in front of his friends. They’d all dealt with that awkwardness enough when they were going through puberty together. Richie had seen the outlines of his friend’s cocks more times than he’d like to admit, and definitely enough to know that he wasn’t the only well endowed one in their friend group.

When Bev came back downstairs she sighed dramatically and plopped down directly into Bill’s lap. Bill made a noise of surprise before wrapping his arms around her middle and pressing his face into her shoulder. “You smell s-so good, Bev, what are you wearing?”

She shrugged. “Some fancy Dior shit my aunt sent me.”

Richie saw Mike cross his arms out of the corner of his eye. “Stan sucks balls at Mario.” Richie pointed out, watching as Stanley walked directly into a flying koopa.

“Fuck you, Richie.” Stan flipped him off over his shoulder.

“You’re probably better at other stuff,” Ben said quietly, eyes trained on the screen as he expertly platformed through a ghost ship.

Richie wasn’t sure if Ben meant his comment passive-aggressively, but Richie found it fucking hilarious and muffled his laughter in Eddie’s shoulder. “Fuck you too, Ben.” Stan grumbled.

Bill and Bev laughed softly on their end of the couch, and Richie glanced over to smile at them. They seemed happy as can be, wrapped up in one another and snickering softly, but Mike, on the other hand, looked like someone had shit in his cereal, arms crossed over his chest, face pinched up, legs bouncing rapidly. Richie opened his mouth to ask if he was ok just as Bill’s mother came downstairs again. “Eddie, honey, your mother is on the phone.” She called, leaning over the railing.

“Ok,” Eddie nodded, patting Richie’s thighs beneath him before moving to stand up. “I’ll be right back.” He told the group, carefully stepping around Ben and Stan to follow Bill’s mother upstairs.

“I’ve got an open seat now, Mikey.” Richie grinned over at him, patting his lap. “Care to join me?”

“No thanks,” Mike mumbled.

He was clearly upset and Richie wanted to ask why, but he could already tell that Mike wouldn’t say whatever was bothering him. Richie loved Mike, he was one of his best friends, but Mike had always been kind of distant when they were all together. Richie wondered if maybe Mike didn’t like one of them but was too scared to say something, as he was the last one added to their group. It didn’t make any difference, not to Richie anyway, because he loved Mike as much as he loved the other Losers, but he sometimes thought that Mike must have felt left out from them, or like he didn’t belong. It made Richie sad to think about.

“Alright, I’m tapping out.” Stan tossed his controller down on the ground. “This fucking sucks, I’m too high for this.”

“Hey, don’t blame my weed.” Bev frowned at him, toying with the fingers of Bill’s left hand.

“I’ll play,” Mike offered, trading seats with Stan just as Ben successfully navigated another level and the game swapped back to Luigi’s turn.

“You’ve got this, Mikey.” Bill encouraged, cheek resting against the back on Bev’s arm.

“Yeah, whatever.” Mike mumbled, so quietly Richie wasn’t sure if any of the other Losers heard it.

Richie checked his watch, surprised to see that it was now just past 3, meaning they’d been playing Mario for over an hour. He wasn’t sure how long Eddie had been gone, but he wanted to check on him, so he excused himself from the group and trotted upstairs to search for Eddie.

Sharon was vacuuming the hallway went he emerged from the basement, and she turned her head to smile at him. “You kids having fun?” She asked, switching off the vacuum.

“Yes, ma’am.” Richie returned her smile. “Thank you so much for having us over.”

“Of course, dear.” She reached out and patted his cheek. “Bill told us you’re moving to New York as well? You and Beverly?”

“Yes, we are.”

“That’s wonderful, Richie.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I hope everything goes well for you down there.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that.” He smiled at her again. “Where’s Eddie?”

“In the kitchen,” She waved her hand towards the kitchen doorway, switching the vacuum back on. “I think he’s still on the phone.”

Sure enough, Eddie was still on the phone, tucked up into the corner of the kitchen by the back door with the receiver pressed to his ear. “Yes, Mommy.” He said softly. “I know.” He smiled tiredly when he made eye contact with Richie, gesturing to the phone and rolling his eyes.

Richie mouthed _I love you_ _,_ and Eddie smiled wider, nodding his head and pressing his hand over his heart.

 _You too_ _._ He mouthed back.

Richie twisted around to look out the kitchen doorway, making sure Bill’s mother was out of view before leaning over and kissing Eddie’s cheek. Eddie beamed up at him, poking Richie in the tummy. Richie could hear Sonia babbling through the phone, her high-pitched nagging voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard to him.

“No, Mom, of course Richie isn’t here.” Eddie told here. Richie snickered quietly and leaned against the counter. “Yes, you already told me that.” Eddie sighed. “Richie isn’t sick, Ma.” He paused again. “He isn’t dirty.”

Richie scowled. Even before she knew he was gay, Eddie’s mother always told him that Richie was dirty. He’d even heard her call him “That Filthy Tozier Boy,” once or twice when she thought he wasn’t listening.

Richie pantomimed blowing his brains out and Eddie cracked a small smile, running his fingers down Richie’s arm softly. “Ma, I have to go.” Eddie said into the phone. He paused, listening to whatever Sonia was barking at him. “Yes, I know. I will.” Another brief pause. “Ok, yes. I love you too. Bye, Mommy.” He sighed as he set the phone back on the dock, scrubbing over his face with his hands.

“Does she say ‘hello?’” Richie asked.

Eddie chuckled. “Surprisingly, she does not.” He looked up at Richie with tired eyes. “She must have forgotten.”

“Mm,” Richie laid his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “She was probably too busy reminding you of all of the diseases you can get from me and my filthy hands.”

Eddie frowned, taking Richie’s hands in his and bringing them up to his lips, kissing them softly. “I like your hands.” He mumbled. “No matter how filthy they are.”

Richie smiled at him, reaching up and tucking a lock of hair behind Eddie’s ear. “You’re cute,” He told him.

“I love you,” Eddie said softly, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Richie, burying his face in his chest.

“I love you too,” Richie kissed the crown of Eddie’s skull before resting his chin there. He wasn’t worried about Bill’s mom seeing them hug. Richie was a very affectionate person, he always had been, especially towards his friends. Especially towards Eddie. They always slept next to each other at sleepovers, sharing air beds and sleeping bags on group camping trips, sitting on each other’s laps on long car rides. It was just how they’d always been. Not so much Richie and Eddie as richieandeddie.

“I want to tell them,” Eddie mumbled into Richie’s chest.

“Tell who what?” Richie asked, rubbing circles onto Eddie’s back.

“The Losers.” Eddie pulled back to look into Richie’s eyes. “I want to tell them about me. Us. Being together. Getting married. All of it.” He nodded his head. “I’m ready.”

***

Bev and Bill had tagged in on Mario when Richie and Eddie got back downstairs, lying on their stomachs on the carpet and blindly reaching into a bag of twizzlers over and over again. Stan, Mike and Ben were now seated on the couch, Stan and Ben passing a spliff back and forth and Mike still sitting like a statue looking grumpy as ever.

Bill turned away from the television when he heard them come down, eyes going immediately to where their hands were linked between them. “Hey, guys.” Bill said.

“I have something I want to tell you all.” Eddie said, voice cracking.

Richie squeezed his hand, smiling softly at him. Eddie smiled back and exhaled heavily, leading Richie back over to the arm chair and sinking down into it, both of them squeezing onto the seat.

Bill paused the game and sat up, crossing his legs and waiting, half of a twizzler sticking out of his mouth. Bev scooted up next to him on the floor, pulling her legs up to her chest and waiting. Ben, Mike and Stanley turned to face them as well, Ben holding the still lit joint between his fingers. “Everything ok, Eds?” Ben asked, brow furrowed with concern.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded and cleared his throat, hand sweaty against Richie’s. “I just wanted to tell you all this before I leave, y’know. You guys are my best friends, and I love you.”

“We love you too, Eddie.” Bev stretched her leg out and poked his shin lightly with her foot.

“You guys have been so understanding about everything with Richie.” Eddie’s eyes flashed over the group. “And so supportive. It’s thanks to him being so brave that I’m able to do this now.” He took a deep breath in through his nose and then let it all out through his mouth. “I’m gay.” He nodded like he was confirming it with himself. “I’m gay.” He swallowed thickly, staring down at his lap.

Richie squeezed his hand again while they sat in silence. “That’s great, Eddie.” Mike said after a second.

“Yeah, it is.” Bill agreed. “Th-thanks for telling us.”

“We love you no matter what.” Beverly added.

Eddie let out a small sob but he was smiling, looking over their friends with teary eyes. “Thank you, really.” He sniffled softly. “There is more, though.” He looked up to Richie, his eyes full of hesitance.

Richie nodded and winked at him. “It’s ok,” He assured him.

Eddie exhaled again. “We’re together.” Eddie held up their hands, still joined, as proof. “I know Richie already told Bev and Stanley, and I’m sorry it’s taken a little longer for us to tell the rest of you, but I just wasn’t really ready yet.”

“I told Bev and Stan without asking.” Richie clarified, trying to help. “I wasn’t intentionally leaving any of you out, I swear.”

“And before anyone starts with another round of congratulations, there’s one more thing.” Eddie said it all very quickly, clearly on a roll.

“You got Richie pregnant?” Bev cracked a smile.

Mike and Ben started laughing from the couch and Bill stifled a laugh into his palm. Richie laughed and Eddie did too, but he could tell that it was more of an anxious response than an actual purposeful laugh. “Sadly, no.” Eddie said. “We’re, uh—“ He cleared his throat again. “Richie, he asked me to marry him. So we’re. Like. We’re engaged. To each other. To be married.” Eddie spit out his barely coherent jumble of words and then just stopped talking all together, biting his bottom lip so hard, Richie was worried he was going to bite through it.

When Richie looked back out to their friends, Beverly was crying, hand covering her mouth to try and keep quiet. “Bev—“ Richie started.

“No, I’m sorry.” She said quickly when everyone turned to look at her. “I don’t mean to be an attention whore over here, really, but it’s just.” She sobbed, waving Bill away when he reached out for her. “I’m so fucking happy for you guys!” She buried her face in her hands and started to sob loudly, this time allowing Bill to pull her into a hug.

He rubbed her shoulder and hushed her gently as Mike spoke up. “That really is amazing, you guys.” He smiled at them. “Congratulations.”

“Mazel Tov,” Stanley said quietly, taking the joint back from Ben and holding it while Ben went to comfort Bev on the floor.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She insisted, although she was clearly _not_ fine.

“You can design our tuxes, Bevvie.” Richie told her, to which she let out another round of heavy sobs.

“And we want all of you there.” Eddie told them. “When we get married, I mean.”

“When?” Bill asked.

“Where?” Ben added.

“New York,” Richie told them. “This winter.”

“We can’t really get married.” Eddie frowned.

“Thanks to our old friend Bill Clinton.” Richie rolled his eyes.

“But we’d like to have a small ceremony, with our families and our friends.” Eddie tugged on the hem of his shirt.

“You guys fall under both categories, in case you were wondering.” Richie was actually starting to get worried about Bev. She hadn’t stopped crying, and was now weeping heavily on Ben’s shoulder while Bill rubbed her back in slow circles. “Jesus, Bev, steal the spotlight, why don’t you?” Richie teased.

“Oh, fuck you.” Bev used Ben’s sleeve to wipe her tears.

“Would being covered in her snot and tears be considered ‘second base’?” Richie asked, grinning widely when Ben flushed about a hundred shades of red.

“You’re such a shit.” Beverly took her sneaker off and chucked it at him.

Richie dramatically threw himself over Eddie’s lap to block the shoe from hitting him, shouting, “I’ll save you, baby!” as the sneaker bounced lightly off his chest. “I don’t think I’ll make it, Eds.” He groaned up at him, coughing lightly. “Take care of our kids for me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Rich, Jesus. Talk about wanting to be the center of attention.”

“I thought you loved me,” Richie pouted.

Eddie smiled and brushed Richie’s hair back from his forehead. “I do,”

“Aww!” Beverly cooed, dropping her head to rest on Ben’s shoulder.

“Yuh-you guys really are cute,” Bill agreed. “Congratulations. If eh-anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

“Thanks, Big Billy.” Richie grinned at him, turning his head in Eddie’s lap. “You deserve to be happy too. You all do.”

“Well, you say that.” Mike said. “But I don’t know how you expect any of us to be happy when you’re not around.”

Richie felt his face heat up as he blushed. “Try not to have any fun without us while we’re gone, Mikey.”

“There’s never any fun without you around, Rich.” Mike replied.

All of his friends mumbled their agreement. “Well,” Richie sat up finally, throwing his arm over Eddie’s shoulders. “At least try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“How could we?” Ben asked, grinning. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

***

It took a few minutes of talking, but they were finally able to calm Bev down enough that she stopped crying, so they recircled up to smoke another bowl before deciding to watch a movie.

They settled on _Silence of the Lambs_ , mostly because Richie wanted to hold Eddie in his lap. Eddie hated scary movies, so he spent the entire two hours squirming in Richie’s hold and hiding his face in his hands. After that was finished, Eddie chose _My Girl_ , as it was his favorite movie and it was his party, so they all agreed to watch one of the saddest movies of all time, which left them all whimpering blubbery messes, with Bev curled up in Ben’s arms sobbing loudly and Stanley trying to discretely wipe his tears on the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Jesus, Bev.” Richie leaned over Bill’s lap and patted her shoulder. “Sensitive much?”

“Shut up,” She mumbled, face pushed into the crook of Ben’s neck.

“It’s ok, Bev.” Ben smiled down at her. “Richie’s just an asshole.”

“Hey,” Richie protested.

Bev snorted. “Yeah, but I love him anyway.” She pushed herself off of his lap and extended her hand towards him. “I feel like dancing.” She said. “Dance with me.”

Ben took Beverly’s hand and allowed her to pull him to the center of the room, bending down to turn up the boombox before draping her arms over his shoulders and swaying to the music.

 _Nothing Compares 2 U_ played softly through the basement, and Richie grinned at Eddie. “May I have this dance, Mr. Kaspbrak?” He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s neck.

“You’re such a goob.” Eddie smiled at him.

Richie kept on smiling at him, heart full of love as Eddie pulled him to his feet to dance. Richie heard Bill ask Stanley if he wanted to dance, and soon they were swirling around with the rest of them on the dance floor. Richie turned his head to ask Mike if he wanted to throuple up with he and Eddie, but he just barely caught a glimpse of Mike as he walked out of the basement, letting the door swing shut behind him. No one else seemed to notice, Beverly and Ben pressed tightly together, Eddie leaning heavily against Richie’s chest, eyes closed and breathing evenly, and Stanley and Bill whispering softly to each other as the twirled around. Stan looked a little upset but Bill seemed calm, his hand on Stan’s hip, stroking softly in a comforting manner.

 _Linger_ by The Cranberries came on next so everyone kept dancing, swaying slowly to the soft music. Eddie tipped his chin up to smile at Richie. “I love you,” He whispered.

“I love you too,” Richie assured him, kissing the end of his nose.

“I want this song to play at our wedding.” Eddie said.

“Sure,” Richie nodded. “For our first dance?”

Eddie pursed his lips like he was thinking. “I’m not sure yet,” He shrugged. “I just know I want this song to play.”

“Anything for you, Eddie, my love.” Richie assured him.

Eddie stood on his toes to catch Richie’s lips in a kiss just as his watch beeped. “What time is it?” Eddie asked.

“7:30,” Richie replied. He’d set the alarm earlier to remind himself to call his mother and let her know if he was planning on coming home for dinner or staying at Bill’s for a while longer. “I’ve gotta go call Went and Mags,” He kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Be right back.”

Richie untangled himself from Eddie and slipped past the other Losers, trotting up the stairs and into the kitchen to ring his house. “Tozier residence.” Wentworth answered.

“Hey, Dad.” Richie greeted.

“Hello, son.” His father replied. “Are you having fun at the Denbrough’s?”

“Yes, sir.” Richie heard the door to the basement open and click shut again, but no one came into his line of sight so he didn’t know who it was. “I was just calling to let you guys know that I’m gonna stay here for now.”

“When will you be home?” Wentworth asked.

“I’m not really sure.” Richie answered honestly.

“Well, there’s no rush, son.” His father assured him. “Have fun and be safe. I’ll let your mother know your plan.”

“Alright, thanks, Dad.”

“I love you, Richard.”

“I love you too.”

“Goodbye, son.”

“Bye, Dad.” Richie set the phone back on the dock and sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

His father had been much more affectionate and expressive towards him since he’d told his parents he was moving away, and especially since he came out. His mother had always been that way, so he didn’t notice any difference in her behavior, although she did cry a little more often now, he was just still getting used to it.

Richie decided to run upstairs to pee before heading back down to the basement, as he’d had like six root beers since he’d been over and hadn’t taken a break yet, so he did his business and washed his hands in the sink, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. He laughed when he saw himself, because he looked pretty fucking high. His glasses were crooked on his nose, and had been for who knows how long, his hair was sticking up wildly, curls flying away in all different directions, and his clothes were rumpled and rolled in odd places. He quickly straightened himself back out, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands to try and reduce the redness of them, before stepping back out into the hall.

He could hear talking coming from behind Bill’s bedroom door as he got closer. One of the voices was Bill himself, as Richie recognized his stuttering right away, and he was pretty sure the other voice was Mike.

The door was cracked so Richie peeked inside, and sure enough, Bill and Mike were inside talking. Mike was sitting on the edge of Bill’s bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning up at Bill as he paced around his room. They both looked upset and it made Richie worry. He didn’t like it when his friends fought. It made him anxious to think about any of them having a falling out and forcing Richie to chose between two of his friends.

They were speaking too quietly for Richie to understand, but Mike looked angry, glaring up at Bill from his place on the bed with his brow pinched. Bill was moving his hands a lot when he spoke, and even though Richie couldn’t hear what he was saying, he could tell Bill was stuttering, as his stutter always got much worse when he was worked up.

Richie was considering knocking on the door and stepping in, hoping to dissolve whatever was happening and stop a full on fight from breaking out, but Bill stopped directly in front of Mike on the bed and crouched down, speaking to him directly in a hushed voice, hands gripping his knees firmly. Mike cut off whatever Bill was saying by grabbing his wrists and pulling him up into a kiss.

Richie’s mind flashed with _None of my business_ , and he turned to walk away as Bill straddled Mike’s lap and deepened their kiss.

Whatever was going on with Bill and Mike was none of Richie’s concern, and he’d already been being a bad friend by spying on them in the first place, so he decided to just leave it alone and return to the basement with the rest of the Losers.

He rounded the corner of the staircase, ready to descend down the basement stairs, when a flicker of red caught his eye. He squinted through the lenses of his glasses, following the flashing light just outside Bill’s patio door, bright orange against the black night sky. As Richie got closer to the door, he realized it was Stanley, outside on his own, smoking a spliff.

Stan was sitting on his own on the back porch, hunched over himself with a party cup in one hand and a joint in the other. “Hey, Stanley.” Richie said softly, plopping down next to him on the top stair.

“Hey,” Stan replied, passing the joint to Richie.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw Mike and Bill making out.” Richie sighed, taking a small puff off of the spliff.

“Mm,” Stan mumbled, dropping his chin to rest on his knees.

“You ok, Stan the Man?” Richie asked softly, bumping his shoulder into Stan’s.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Stan seemed so small and sad in that moment, away from the party, all on his own, smoking weed on Bill’s back porch as if his friends weren’t all inside together.

“Stan,” Richie frowned at him. “Look at me.” Stanley didn’t move, a gentle breeze moving some of his curls as he sat there, spliff held between his index and middle finger, blueish smoke drifting up towards the cloudy sky. “Stanley—“ Richie tried again.

“When were you going to tell me?” Stan asked, taking a long drag off of the joint.

“Tell you what?” Richie shook his head.

“About you and Eddie?” Stan glanced at him sideways, brown eyes wet with tears in the dim moonlight. “About you guys getting married?”

“I just did tell you, Stanley.” Richie frowned.

“How long?” Stan puffed off of the joint again.

“How long what?” Richie asked. He didn’t like Stan’s tone or his body language. He was closed off and snarky, so unlike Stanley that it made Richie’s stomach drop.

“How fucking long have you two been engaged, Richie?” Stanley asked, flicking his joint out into the lawn.

Richie shrugged. Stanley scoffed. “What do you want from me, Stan?”

“I don’t want anything.” Stanley said, frowning and shaking his head. “I want absolutely nothing at all, Rich.”

“Then what’s your fucking problem?” Richie demanded. Stan was pissing him off. He knew that he and Eddie were together, what fucking difference did it make if they were engaged? It didn’t change anything.

“I don’t have a problem.” Stan spit, taking a swig from his drink.

“You’re acting like a fucking asshole.”

“How am I the asshole?” Stanley demanded, finally turning to face Richie. “I pour my _fucking_ heart out to you, Richie, and you turn me down, you tell me that you love me, but ‘not like that’ and that you _wish_ you could love me, but you fucking don’t, and then you waltz in here with your fucking boyfriend— oh, I’m sorry! Your fiancé! And just expect me to be fine?!” Stan scoffed. Every word out of his mouth had felt like a slap to Richie’s face. “I came out here because I wanted to be alone, Richie, so just.” He chucked his empty cup onto the lawn and raked a hand through his curly hair. “Just go away, please.” His voice broke on the last word and he shook his head again, sniffling. “Just go away, Richie, leave me alone.”

“Stanley—“ Richie laid his hand on Stan’s shoulder.

“Seriously, Richie, go away.” Stan said, shaking Richie’s hand off of him.

“Stan,“ Richie took Stanley’s chin in his hand and tipped his face up. He was crying, tears tracking their way down his flushed cheeks. “I’m sor—“

Stanley cut him off by kissing him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in so fast that their teeth clicked together when their lips met. Richie pulled away immediately, his brain flashing _EDDIE_ in big neon letters. Richie opened his mouth to speak, not really sure what to say, but Stanley cut him off with a choked sob, still holding him close by his hands fisted in Richie’s shirt. He took a shaky breath and laid his head on Richie’s shoulder, heavy sobs raking his slender frame. Richie hushed him gently, wrapping his arms around Stan and holding him close, rubbing over his back in an attempt to soothe him. Stan’s hair smelled like his lemon shampoo with the smallest amount of weed smoke trapped among his dense curls. Stan took deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down, chest heaving with coughs in between his heavy cries. Richie’s lips tasted like Stanley’s chapstick. Strawberry, unlike the cherry one that Eddie used. “I’m so sorry, Richie.” Stan managed.

“Don’t be sorry, Stan.” Richie said softly, although, to be fair, Stanley did have at least a few things to be sorry about in that particular moment.

“I want you to be happy, Richie, I do.” Stan shook his head against Richie’s chest. “And I want Eddie to be happy. I’m glad that you two have each other, I’m so fucking happy for you guys, I am, but I just—“ He took a shuddery breath. “I just love you so fucking much, Richie. I love you so much that it hurts sometimes.” He pulled back to meet Richie’s eyes. “And I’m worried that if I let this go I’ll never find love like this again.”

“You _will_ , Stan.” Richie cupped Stanley’s face in his hands, wiping his tears away with his thumbs. “Stanley, there’s someone out there that will love you as much as you love me. And you’ll love them right back. You just need to get out of this fucking town.”

Stan nodded sadly, eyes shiny with tears. “I’m sorry, Richie, I shouldn’t’ve kissed you.”

“No,” Richie agreed. “Did it help?”

Stan’s lower lip wobbled as he shook his head. “No,” He sniffled softly. “No, it didn’t.”

***

Bill invited all of the Losers to spend the night. To sleep on the basement floor in a big pile one last time, like they always did, but Richie and Eddie decided to walk back to Richie’s instead. They thanked Bill for hosting the party, and the Losers for showing up, as well as Bill’s parents for letting them come over. It was a sad goodbye for both of them, but Eddie especially. Richie watched as Eddie hugged all their friends goodbye, sobbing onto each of their shoulders. Ben cried too, when Eddie hugged him, ever the bleeding heart, and Stan whispered something to Eddie that Richie couldn’t hear, and when all was said and done, Richie and Eddie laced their fingers back together and set off for Richie’s house.

“That was really nice,” Eddie commented as they walked home, hands clasped together and swinging between them, as since the sun set, they didn’t have to worry too much about someone seeing them.

“It was,” Richie agreed.

“I’m gonna miss those guys like crazy,” Eddie sounded sad, his voice thick.

“It’s not goodbye forever,” Richie reminded him. “It’s goodbye for now.”

Eddie smiled over at him. “I know. It’s still sad though.”

Richie sighed, pulling his hand out of Eddie’s so he could toss his arm over his shoulders. “It is.” They walked in silence for a second, their sneakers scuffing on the dry pavement. “What did Stanley say to you?”

Eddie shrugged. “He wished me good luck. He said he wanted me to be happy.”

Richie nodded. “I have to tell you something, Eds.” He said softly.

“Ok,”

“Stanley, uh—“ Richie hesitated. He didn’t want to keep anything from Eddie, he knew he needed to tell him that he and Stan had kissed, but he also didn’t want to embarrass Stan at all. It had been a heat of the moment thing, and Stanley had apologized, and Richie just felt so bad. Stanley couldn’t help the way he felt about Richie, and it broke Richie’s heart to know that Stan was in pain and that he was struggling. But, in the end, Eddie was his fiancé, and he refused to keep a secret from him. “Stanley kissed me. At the party. On Bill’s porch.”

Eddie didn’t say anything for a second, his gait slowing down for a beat before picking back up again. “Why?” He asked.

Richie shrugged. “It just kind of happened. We were arguing and then he kissed me.”

“What were you arguing about?” Eddie kicked a small stone on the street, eyes following it as it clattered across the pavement.

Richie exhaled deeply. He didn’t want to out Stanley, it wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t his place, but he didn’t know how else to explain what happened to Eddie. “He told me something the other day. In confidence. I can’t, uh—“ His eyes flashed over to Eddie, watching his profile in the moonlight as they walked along. “I can’t tell you, I’m sorry. It’s not my place.” Richie braced himself for an argument from Eddie, but Eddie just nodded, raising his hand to Richie’s hand on his shoulder and sliding their fingers together. “But, that’s what we were fighting about.”

“And he just kissed you?”

“Yeah,” Richie nodded. “I’m sorry, Eds. Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” Eddie frowned at him, pausing in the street to turn to Richie completely. “You told me right away, and nothing really happened.” He shrugged. “If something happened between you and Stan, that’s your business. I trust you to tell me what I need to know. Stan is my friend, and he’s your friend too.” Eddie shrugged again. “Sometimes friends kiss. I’ve kissed Bill before. And Bev.” He poked Richie in the ribs. “And you.”

Richie smiled at him. “I think we’re a little more than friends, there, Spaghetti.”

Eddie laughed. “Maybe so,” He reached up and tucked a curl behind Richie’s ear. “Thank you for telling me.”

Richie nodded, his hands finding their way to Eddie’s hips easily, pulling him closer. “I’d never keep something from you, Eddie. I love you.”

Eddie smiled, moonlight reflecting off of his big brown eyes as he stared up at Richie, arms looped around the back of his neck, twisting his fingers through the curls at the base of Richie’s skull. “I love you too.” He whispered.

Richie did a quick scan of their surroundings to make sure they were alone on the street before leaning down to meet Eddie’s lips for a kiss. He tasted sweet, like the twizzlers and pop rocks he’d no doubt been eating a Bill’s all night. Eddie hummed softly into Richie’s mouth, pulling him closer by his hair, and licking the seam of Richie’s lips to encourage him to part them, eager to taste him again.

Eddie was getting hard, Richie could feel him, and as much as it pained him to pull away, he knew they had to. They couldn’t risk being seen out on the street by someone, no matter how safe they both felt with their friends and Richie’s family, and they certainly couldn’t have sex in the middle of the street, no matter how badly Richie wanted to have Eddie moaning and writhing beneath him again. He longed for that special closeness with Eddie so much that his cock twitched in his pants, a sharp jolt of arousal racing straight up his spine and flooding out through his pores.

Eddie gasped softly as Richie leaned forward and bit a mark onto his neck, just below his ear, running his tongue over the indentions of his teeth on Eddie’s skin and up the shape of his ear. “God, I want to fuck you so badly, Eddie.” Richie mumbled, pressing light kisses all along Eddie’s pale skin. “I want to be inside of you, I want to feel all of you, how soft you are, how warm you are—“

“Richie,” Eddie moaned breathily, pushing his hips forward into Richie’s grip as he began palming him through his pants.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Richie groaned. He wasn’t sure where this sudden primal urge to be with Eddie had come from, but he was pretty sure that if he didn’t get his hands inside of Eddie soon he might burst into flames.

“Where can we go?” Eddie asked softly, clinging to Richie’s shoulders. He shivered when Richie sucked hard on the skin of his collarbone, shirt pushed aside, sure to leave a dark mark on his tan skin.

Richie shook his head, mouthing at Eddie’s jawline, mind racing through any and every location he’d ever been to. His parents were home, so his house was out. He didn’t ever want to go anywhere near Sonia again, so they couldn’t go to Eddie’s house. The clubhouse was filthy and dusty, and they couldn’t risk one of the Losers deciding to make a trip down there to smoke or read or whatever, so that was a no go. “Fuck, Eddie, I don’t—“

“My mom’s car.” Eddie said quickly. “Or, my dad’s car, I guess.” He added when Richie pulled back to look at him.

“The station wagon?” Richie knit his eyebrows together.

“No, not that one. My dad’s truck. The one he left us when he died.” Eddie ran his hands down Richie’s arms. “It’s in the shed in our backyard.”

Richie nodded slowly. That could work. “Do you have lube and condoms at your place?”

“Yes,” Eddie nodded too. “Up in my bedroom.” He smiled up at Richie, face bathed in pale moonlight. “You up for a little bending and twisting?”

“For you, babe?” Richie pecked Eddie’s lips lightly. “Anything.”

***

The shed in Eddie backyard was locked, so Richie had to bust out the bottom pane of the window to be able to climb through. The shed looked like it hadn’t been touched in 15 years, so Richie figured it would probably be fine.

They’d walked to Eddie’s house briskly, and Eddie had ushered Richie around back while he went up to his bedroom to grab their supplies.

A thick layer of dust covered the floor of the shed and the outside of the truck, but the inside was relatively clean still. It likely hadn’t been opened since the last time Eddie’s dad had driven it before he died, or at least since Sonia had moved it into the shed, so the worst of the worst on the inside was some cobwebs hanging from the rear view mirror.

The truck was a regular old pickup, dark red paint job with a soft leather interior. The front seat was a bench, and was easily wide enough for Eddie to lay comfortably on. Richie would have to stay between Eddie’s legs (which he planned to do anyway) and a little hunched over to properly fit in the car, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Richie certainly wasn’t above begging. Not for Eddie.

Richie watched from the broken window of the shed as Eddie walked around in his bedroom. He looked tiny from so far away, puttering back and forth as he collected what he needed. He left his door locked and his bedroom light on as he slipped out his window and down into the yard. It was well past 8:30, and Sonia likely would be falling asleep soon if she wasn’t asleep already, and she took some pretty heavy sleeping pills, so she’d no doubt conk out in her recliner downstairs and not bother to check on Eddie until the morning.

“You broke the window?” Eddie whispered as Richie helped pull him into the shed.

“How so very dare you,” Richie frowned. “It very well could have been broken when I got here.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if you broke it.” He shrugged and popped the truck door open. “The only thing I care about right now is getting my mouth on your cock.”

Richie groaned softly, eyelids fluttering shut as Eddie hopped up onto the bench seat. “You’re gonna fucking _kill_ me, Eds.” He murmured, stepping up between Eddie’s open knees.

“Take your pants off,” Eddie mumbled, pecking Richie’s lips lightly.

“Bossy,” Richie remarked, rubbing over Eddie’s arm as he fumbled with Richie’s belt buckle.

“I want to taste you.” Eddie breathed, unbuttoning and unzipping Richie’s pants and slipping his hand inside.

“God, Eddie.” Richie moaned, dropping his forehead to rest against Eddie’s, panting heavily as Eddie gripped his hard cock and slowly stroked upwards.

“You feel good.” Eddie kissed Richie’s cheek softly. “You’re so hard.”

“Come here,” Richie whispered, taking Eddie’s face in his hands and kissing him.

He’d intended the kiss to be soft, but Eddie wasn’t having any of it, wrapping his free hand up in Richie’s hair and yanking him closer, pushing his tongue into Richie’s mouth and licking behind his teeth. “I want to blow you,” Eddie nipped at Richie’s bottom lip.

“You don’t want to kneel on the floor in here, Eds.” Richie shook his head, fucking hating that he had to be the voice of reason and stop Eddie from sucking his cock, but he knew the shed was dirty and he knew Eddie would hate it, and if he got upset they’d probably have to stop, which wasn’t ideal.

“Mm,” Eddie seemed to agree, eyes scanning the floor. He pursed his lips, thinking for a second before grabbing Richie by the collar of his shirt and pulling him forward. “Here,” He said. “Sit on the bench and I’ll lean over you.” He slid backwards on the bench seat until his back his the passenger side door, leaving Richie plenty of room to climb in next to him.

“You’re sure?” Richie asked, shutting the door behind himself and throwing his arm up over the back of the seat.

“Of course,” Eddie nodded, exhaling heavily as he took Richie’s dick in his hand and began pumping slowly. His eyes flashed up to Richie’s face as he leaned forward, taking the head of his cock in his mouth and licking over him softly, tongue flicking underneath the head.

Richie groaned lowly, shutting his eyes and bringing his hands to the back of Eddie’s head, not guiding or pushing him, just resting there.

Eddie’s hair was soft and smooth under Richie’s hands, silky curls winding through his fingers as Eddie sucked him off. He did what he could, never able to take too much of Richie in his mouth at once, but it was his first time ever giving a blowjob, so Richie wasn’t complaining. He was enjoying himself simply because he was with Eddie. He’d be happy even if Eddie was just looking at his cock. “You’re doing so well, Eds.” Richie assured him, scratching gently over the back of Eddie’s head when he pushed too hard and gagged. “That feels fucking incredible.”

Eddie hummed around him, clearly happy with the praise, and rutted against the bench seat beneath him.

What he lacked in skill, Eddie made up for in enthusiasm, jerking Richie off with his left hand as he moved up and down his length with his mouth, his other hand gently groping and cupping over Richie’s balls, moaning softly and sucking eagerly around him. Richie worked hard to keep his hips down, not wanting to thrust up into Eddie’s mouth and choke him, but he couldn’t help but twitch every so often, and when he did Eddie would groan louder, shaking Richie’s bone marrow and causing him to drop his head back against the seat.

He was surprised he lasted as long as he did before pulling Eddie off. “You’ve gotta stop if you want me to fuck you.” He panted, looking into Eddie’s brown eyes, pupils wide with lust.

Eddie nodded, wiping his shiny lips with the back of his hand. “Did I do ok? Did you like it?”

Richie gathered Eddie’s face in his hands and kissed him gently. “I loved it.” He assured him.

Eddie smiled at him, cheeks flushed a pretty bright pink. He swept a hand through Richie’s hair, stopping to lightly tap the end of his nose with his finger. “I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too, Spaghetti-Man.” Richie replied.

Eddie snorted at the nickname, rolling his eyes and sitting back on his heels so he could dig through the pocket of his jeans. He produced a wrapped condom and a bottle of lube and handed them to Richie. “Try not to make a mess,” He said softly. “Incase my mom ever decides to come out here.”

Richie nodded his head, leaning forward and kissing Eddie’s cheek. Eddie’s breathing picked up when Richie’s lips met his skin, exhaling heavily through his nose, hands gripping his denim-clad thighs tightly.

Richie popped the cap of the lube open, parting his lips against Eddie’s cheek to gently lick at his flushed skin, tasting the rose petal face lotion that Eddie used after every shower. Eddie whimpered softly as Richie set the lube down on the bench seat, still unused, to carefully help Eddie out of his jeans. “Richie,” He breathed.

“You’re beautiful.” Richie told him.

Eddie’s skin was warm under his hands, the fuzzy hair on the tops of his thighs tickling Richie’s fingertips as he dragged Eddie’s jeans and boxers down, allowing his cock, already red and leaking, to bounce free, standing at attention in the open air. Richie dragged the pads of his fingers up Eddie’s length, swiping his thumb over the head to spread his precum around before pulling his hand back and sucking his fingers into his mouth, licking the bitter taste of Eddie off of his skin. Eddie whimpered again, watching Richie with heavy eyes. “Please,” He whispered.

“Come here,” Richie settled back against the seat. “Climb up onto my lap, sweetheart.”

Eddie complied, scooting over on the bench and straddling Richie’s thighs, and settling there, hands resting on Richie’s shoulders. Richie pulled his own shirt over his head, leaning over to grab the lube as Eddie shed his t-shirt as well, tossing it to the side.

Richie reopened the lube, carefully coating the fingers on his right hand, allowing Eddie to rut up against him, panting rapidly as the head of his cock dragged over Richie’s tummy over and over again, precum smearing in his dark body hair.

Eddie gripped Richie’s shoulders tightly as Richie circled one of his fingers around Eddie’s rim. He was soft and hot to the touch, his muscles twitching as Richie pushed in slowly, sinking in to the second knuckle right away. “Breathe, baby.” Richie kissed Eddie’s chest softly.

Eddie nodded, eyes squeezed shut, rolling his hips down to try and take Richie’s hand in deeper. “I am, I am.”

“Just relax, Eds.” Richie swirled his tongue around one of Eddie’s nipples before sealing his lips over it in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Richie,” Eddie was shaking, shuddering steadily as Richie pushed his finger all the way in.

“Are you ok?” Richie asked, concerned. “Do you need me to stop?” He tipped Eddie’s chin down, studying his face.

Eddie exhaled again, nodding his head and opening his eyes. “I’m ok,” He whispered. “Sorry, I’m just nervous.”

“It’s ok,” Richie smiled up at him, kissing underneath his jaw. “Are you sure you don’t want to stop?”

Eddie shook his head, bending far over to kiss Richie softly, licking into his mouth and breathing evenly. Richie felt Eddie clench around his hand, pulling him in deeper, but he didn’t move, giving Eddie plenty opportunity to say something if he wanted Richie to stop.

Richie stayed still as they kissed, simply keeping Eddie full as their tongues moved together. Eddie still tasted so sweet, he almost always did, and it made Richie’s cock throb where it was pinned against his own thigh. Eddie must have felt it, because he moaned softly and rocked himself back onto Richie’s finger. “Do another one,”

“You’re sure?” Richie asked.

Eddie nodded again, tipping Richie’s face to the side so he could suck a mark onto the hinge of his jaw. “I’m ok, keep going.”

Richie pulled his finger out slowly, dragging the pad of it down Eddie’s silky walls, before spreading more lube over his hand and pressing two of his fingers back to Eddie’s entrance. His hole fluttered before swallowing Richie’s fingers up, pulling them in smoothly as he stretched him out.

Richie still went slow, scissoring his fingers apart to gently open Eddie up further, listening to his soft whimpers and breathy whines. He loved the way Eddie sounded any time, he was loud and sassy and silly and he had an amazing laugh, but he especially loved the way Eddie sounded during sex. He was so sweet and light, sounding like he’d just woken up from an amazing dream, his voice heavy with love and lust, practically dripping sex into Richie’s ears, filling his brain up with syrupy desire to keep Eddie talking, keep him moaning and groaning, keep him whispering Richie’s name with his face buried in his shoulder, trying and failing to keep quiet. Richie wanted to encourage him, but he knew Eddie was shy, especially when it came to this kind of stuff. They’d have to work up to any kind of vocals between them during sex, give Eddie time to get comfortable. He didn’t mind waiting, he wanted Eddie to feel good above anything else, and as long as Eddie was happy so was he.

He worked up to the three fingers easily, spreading them apart inside to make sure Eddie was stretched enough, as he didn’t want to hurt him. As if he could read Richie’s mind, Eddie whispered, “I’m ready,”

“You’re sure?” Richie asked again.

“Yes,” Eddie nodded quickly, blindly petting the seat next to him in search of the condom. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him, grabbing the condom with his free hand and ripping it open with his teeth. Eddie whimpered softly when Richie pulled his hand out, carefully rolling the condom on with his slick hand while holding onto Eddie’s hip with his dry one. He spread some extra lube over Eddie’s entrance and a generous amount over his length before lining himself up, resting the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole. “Ready?”

Eddie nodded quickly, swallowing hard. Richie watched his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat. “Yes,” Richie helped Eddie lower himself down, hands firm on his hips as he took Richie in slowly, chest rising and falling with each breath. He stopped halfway down, flushed and panting, and batted Richie’s hands away. “I can do it.”

Richie tipped his chin up to catch Eddie’s lips in a soft kiss, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, carefully avoiding the scab in the center of his busted lip. Eddie took another shuddery breath, tipping his head to the side and sucking Richie’s tongue into his mouth as he bottomed out, fully seated in Richie’s lap, hot and wet and twitching around him. “You’re doing so well, baby.” Richie kissed his cheek, rubbing his flat palms over Eddie’s back, slick with sweat.

“You feel so good.” Eddie whimpered. “You’re so deep inside.” He shifted himself around, searching for a position that allowed him more leverage, so he could lift up and sink back down easier.

The drag of Eddie’s walls against the heated skin of Richie’s cock was incredible, and he let his head fall back against seat. “ _Fuck_.”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughed breathlessly, laying his hands on either side of Richie’s chest. “Fuck, you’re so big.” He whimpered, sitting up on his knees before dropping back down, picking up a steady rhythm.

Richie was mesmerized by Eddie as he moved, chest heaving, skin glistening with sweat in the dim moonlight flooding into the shed. He looked so beautiful, face scrunched up as he made himself feel good. It made Richie’s guts twist around, full of love and arousal. He was embarrassingly close already, heat pooling under his navel as Eddie continued to work himself over Richie’s cock, whining softly.

Richie leaned forward and began pressing kisses to Eddie’s chest and tummy, darting his tongue out to lick up beads of sweat from his flushed skin. Eddie threaded his hands through Richie’s hair, pulling lightly as he continued bouncing, pants falling from his parted lips.

Richie licked a line up Eddie’s breastplate, straight over the column of his throat and underneath the line of his jaw, tipping his head to the side so his glasses didn’t dig into Eddie’s neck as he sucked gently on his skin, leaving hickeys on his tan skin.

“Fuck, Rich,” Eddie whined, one of his hands leaving Richie’s hair to wrap around his own leaking cock. “I’m so— _fuck_ , I’m gonna cum, Rich, I’m so fucking close.”

“Come on, baby, you’re doing so good.” Richie encouraged. “Cum for me, Eds.”

Eddie quickened the thrusts of his hips and the jerks of his hand, breathing picking up as he fell apart. He came hard, clenching tightly around Richie inside of him and shooting ropes of cum up onto Richie’s bare chest. He whined high in his throat as he finished, twitching with each jerk of his wrist as he tugged himself dry in Richie’s lap.

Mind fuzzy, Richie watched Eddie finish before taking his hips in his hands and thrusting roughly up into him, chasing his own orgasm. Eddie whimpered softly as he became sensitive and Richie was done for, mouth falling open as he came, gripping Eddie’s hips so tightly he was sure to leave bruises in the shapes of his fingers.

Eddie collapsed forward onto Richie’s chest, petting lightly over his shoulder as he tried to steady his breathing. “Fuck, Rich.” He said softly, kissing Richie’s collarbone.

“Jesus, I know.” Richie agreed, nosing at Eddie’s sweaty hair. “Fuck, why don’t we do that every day?”

Eddie laughed, squeezing Richie tightly. “Because you’d probably kill me. You fucked me into the ceiling, man.”

“Shit, really?” Richie asked, kissing Eddie’s temple. “Sorry, Eds, I guess I just got carried away.”

Eddie shook his head, cheek dragging across Richie’s bare skin. “It’s ok.”

They lay together for a while, both of them softening, Eddie’s cum drying on Richie’s chest, the windows of the truck fogged up and dripping with steam.

“I love you,” Richie whispered after a few minutes of silence.

“I love you too.” Eddie said, pulling back. “But we need to get up. We’re all sticky.”

Richie pouted but he let Eddie take the lead, helping him sit up and off gently, both of them hissing as Richie slipped out. Richie tied up the condom and Eddie wrapped it in a few tissues before tucking it in his pocket, and then got to work wiping them both down with a package of wet wipes he’d yoinked from his bedroom before coming down. Once they were clean and dressed, they slipped back through the shed window and began walking back over to Richie’s house. It was just past 9:30, but they wanted to spend a little more time together, so they decided to maybe watch a movie at Richie’s house so they wouldn’t have to sneak in through Eddie’s window together.

They walked in relative silence, hands twined together between them and swinging in the dewy night air. They figured they were safe, even out in the open, because it was so late.

The lights were out when they got there, and the door was locked, so Richie dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the front door before stepping inside. “Mom?” He called. “Dad?” He’d expected his parents to still be up when he got there, as they usually waited up for him to get home safe before going to sleep, but the house was still and quiet.

“They must be sleeping.” Eddie whispered into the dark.

“Mm,” Richie agreed, leading Eddie into the kitchen. “What movie do you want to watch?”

“I’m not sure, what tapes do you have?” Eddie asked, releasing Richie’s hand as he flipped on the light.

“Went just bought this—“ Richie stopped, eyes falling to the kitchen table.

In front of his usual seat was two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne, as well as a note, written in his mother’s swooping handwriting. “What’s that?” Eddie knit his eyebrows together.

“I’m not sure,” Richie picked up the note, reading it out loud. “ _Boys, we hope you had fun at Bill’s, we decided to go out for dinner and a movie so you two could enjoy some alone time together. Have fun and be safe. Love, Mom and Dad._ ” Richie laughed softly, eyes flashing to his father’s penmanship at the bottom. “ _PS, enjoy some champagne, consider this an engagement gift from us._ ”

Eddie draped himself over Richie’s back, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “That’s so sweet of them.” He said, kissing Richie’s neck softly. “I wonder how long they’ve been gone.”

Richie snorted, turning his head to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “Probably at least a couple of hours. Which means there was absolutely no reason for us to fuck in your dad’s car.”

“Mm,” Eddie hummed, watching as Richie picked up the champagne and popped the cork, slurping up the wine that fizzled out of the top and threatened to spill onto the floor. “You’re disgusting.” He wrinkled his nose.

“But you love me anyway.” Richie grinned at him, winking as he poured two glasses of the sparkling wine. “Cheers, baby.” He handed Eddie one of the flutes and clinked them together. “L'chaim.”

“To life,” Eddie agreed, sipping his drink.

“To us.” Richie smiled.

Eddie smiled right back, eyes full of love. “To us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


End file.
